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unravellingsilencehq · 1 year

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“Oh, Merlin, tell me, does THE DETERMINED get what she deserves?” She is NEUTRAL & OPEN to finding out.“

— she walks through the world as ;

name → emma squiggle pronouns → she/her identification → trans-woman year of birth → september 1955 - september 1956 face claim → zion moreno blood status → pure-blood sexual orientation → up to applicant occupation → investigative journalist for the daily prophet future information → n/a

— she is best described as ;

The CLARITY & SUBSTANCE of a CRYSTAL INKWELL & the SOFTNESS & SENSUALITY of a LEATHER DESK CHAIR. She is as REFINED as a full bodied RED and as plush as a long FEATHERED EVENING GOWN.

— her story starts with ;

Some people in life are simply better than others and Emma Squiggle has made that her mantra. Born in New York to the former British Wizarding Ambassador and her menswear fashion designer husband, Emma was raised in the knowledge that the world rewards those who were willing to try and thrive. Of course, Emma knew she would be thriving. Although the Squiggle family would not grace the tapestries of The Sacred Twenty-Eight, Emma never lost a wink of sleep over it. Everyone who was anyone knew old money was out and the best way to make a splash was good family connections, a healthy traceable bloodline and a winning smile. Her very busy parents put as much effort as they could muster into Emma, treating her as a best friend or an associate rather than a child. Whilst most children were trying to grapple with The Tales of Beedle The Bard, Emma was encouraged to sit at the table alongside her parents and discuss what a day of tutoring had taught her, listening intently afterwards as her parents discussed their days. The family moved back to London not long before Emma had received her multiple offers for schooling. Hogwarts was an easy choice for her. Her family had all attended and any school that was regarded as the best in the world would be the only one she would consider.

The hat barely brushed her head before she was announced a Ravenclaw and Emma seated herself on the long mahogany table waiting for people to begin assessing one another so she could wow them with her brilliance. The qualities that Emma loved most about herself was her creativity, strong sense of self and considered herself a good leader- the issue with being sorted into Ravenclaw was that her entire house felt the same way and it was very difficult to get a word in edgeways. Her year group housed some very strong personalities, including Quidditch legends, ELEZAR SMITH [adversary/former romantic liaison], MICHAEL THOMAS [adversary/former romantic liaison] and CRISTIANO PARKINSON [acquaintance], self-established queen bee GENEVIEVE AVERY [rival] and political princess ISOLDE CROUCH [rival]. With everyone in her year intent on a wand measuring competition, Emma forged her own group of likeminded people it wouldn’t hurt her brain to try and associate with. It surprised her how much she adored the company of ADRIAN CAVERLY [former best friend/colleague] and RITA SKEETER [adversary/former best friend/colleague]. In a flock of pigeons they were the true flamingos and nothing made her happier than when they were together.

The three bonded over their love of pop culture, good reads, newspapers and magazines. Each day the three would sit in the common room, passing round issues of muggle and wizarding publications they’d managed to get their hands on, underlining passages for the other to read. It had been Emma’s bright idea that they go into the press business together, though it’s something Rita debates. The school was lacking a newspaper and between them they had the skills to set one up and ensure it succeeded. Emma quickly declared herself the hard news journalist amongst them, happy to give up the position of editor in order to focus on the issues that mattered. Her passion lied in investigation and nothing made Emma’s heart beat faster than a good story. The mystery of The Shrieking Shack was one that made her famous, though her theory that there was a werewolf roaming their grounds was laughed off by most of the staff and the students, except for XENOPHILIUS LOVEGOOD [friend], though she wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. She earned herself a reputation for trouble, sticking her nose in places it didn’t belong and despite having a better wardrobe and more money than most of her classmates she struggled popularity wise.

To her surprise, Michael Thomas didn’t seem to think that ambition was a bad thing. To the whole world they seemed like a couple, but the problem with Michael was that he was allergic to commitment and no matter how much Emma thought she could change him, the likelihood is no witch ever would. He was the first man to break her heart and began a bit of an unhealthy relationship for Emma when it came to love. Emma knew that she was always the better option. The smartest woman in the room, but boys her age were simply stupid. She went looking for love in all the wrong places, the fun single girl with the good job and the cute flat, with the failed love life. Unlike her best friend Rita, Emma didn’t have to pull any strings to get her job at The Daily Prophet, though it did help that her mother was good friends with the Cuffe family. She worked as the intern for ELIAS SPENCER-MOON [former boss], spending her time getting his coffee. Understandably for such a main character, Emma got bored pretty quickly and began taking it upon herself to listen in on Elias’ conversations and do some detective work of her own.

It was only after she undercut him for a scoop and brought it straight to BARNABUS CUFFE [boss] she was awarded a position as an investigative journalist. Though Emma worked hard at her job, it just never seemed to be good enough- not in her eyes of course, but in the eyes of the establishment she worked for. While she was doing noble work trying to uncover injustice, Rita would write about Florence and her boyfriend having another argument and was gifted her own column by the time she was twenty-five. Emma was irritated about the whole thing, but then again she had always felt that way about her. Rita wasn’t a team player, she didn’t want to share the spotlight, always concerned with herself and enjoyed putting down others. Silently she plotted to take her down a peg, Emma knew there was only one real MVP at The Daily Prophet and until she had some breathing room no one would see it. At Rita’s launch party, Emma flirted shamelessly with Rita’s boyfriend AUGUSTUS ROOKWOOD [partner]. It didn’t take long for him to follow her out the door in front of Rita’s face and as she settled into bed with him that evening she did so with a smile.

Emma didn’t expect to fall in love with him. She also didn’t expect for him to fall in love with her, yet here they both were five years later. With Rita out of her life, Emma is truly thriving. She has better friends like, EDGAR CUFFE [best friend] and AURELIA ROOKWOOD [close friend]. An investigative journalist, she has been on the front line trying to figure out who is responsible for the murders taking place in the city, by any means necessary. Like anyone with more than half a brain-cell, Emma believes The Ministry are some how involved, looking to point the finger at a werewolf to contain the issue. With whispers of a dark wizard on the rise bouncing around the street Emma is curious to see if any of these claims have traction and unmask such a figure. The topic of such an investigation has spelt trouble in paradise in one area of her life, as Augustus has often seemed a little too invested in her latest case. Emma believes she might be self-sabotaging, clear on who she has been sharing a bed with for half a decade, but with his behaviour becoming increasingly strange she can’t help but wonder, is she sleeping with the enemy?

— she is a LEVEL 5 WITCH & readied for war ;

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legends-of-time · 3 months

Text

Amelia’s Story (BBC Merlin Story)

Chapter 57: The Sword in the Stone Part Two

Masterlist

Anne's POV

Southrons chase them through the woods. Gwen and Merlin each hold onto Anne as they run. Tristan supports Isolde as they go, and Arthur leads the way.

They are approaching the mouth of the Cave tunnels when Merlin turns to Anne and Gwen. "I'll cover our tracks, you keep going!" He insists. He turns to Gwen. "Help Anne, Gwen."

"Of course." Gwen nods, and she braces herself as Anne leans her entire weight on her shoulders.

Anne gives Merlin a quick peck and she and Gwen continue after Arthur, Tristan, and Isolde. They head into the Caves but then Anne holds her stomach as another contraction hits, and this one nearly brings her to her knees.

"Anne!" Gwen exclaims, grabbing Anne's arms and pulling her back up last second. "Are you alright?"

Anne sucks in deep and slow breaths. "I'm okay. I'll be fine."

"Your gown is wet." Gwen frowns, and Anne looks over at her slowly. Anne watches as the realisation hits Gwen, but Anne just lifts her chin and keeps going. Gwen struggles to catch up with her. "The baby's coming!" Gwen exclaims. "You must tell Merlin!"

"I can't." Anne insists. She checks to make sure that Arthur nor Tristan nor Isolde have heard them, but they are a fair distance away from them. "We've already got enough on our plates. Besides, Gauis says that first time mothers can be in labour for a long long time." Anne nods quickly and wipes the sweat from her brows. "That's what I'm counting on. A long long time."

"But Anne!" Gwen protests. "What if the baby were to come right now?! We must stop—"

"No!" Anne cuts in. "No stopping. We can't stop."

Gwen opens her mouth to protest, but she cuts herself off when they hear footsteps behind them. They turn their heads, but it is just Merlin carrying a lit torch.

"Why are you running so slow?" He asks. He doesn't wait for a reply and simply wraps his arm around Anne's back and practically lifts her as they run the rest of the way. Anne shoots Gwen a pleading look, pleading for her to keep her mouth shut, and thankfully she does.

"Did you lose them?" Arthur asks when they got close enough to him.

"It's safe." Merlin replies, letting go of Anne, who takes this chance to lean against the Cave wall and take a breather.

"You sure?"

"Do I look like an idiot?" Merlin remarks as he walks to the front of the group.

"Yes." Arthur automatically replies causing Anne to smile slightly.

"Doesn't change, does it?"

Arthur comes up to stand next to Merlin. "Which way now?" Merlin looks around uncertainly. Arthur sighs exasperatedly. "I thought you said you grew up in these tunnels."

"I did!" Merlin insists, but he bites his lip as he scans the area around him. "Just– it could be that way." He gestures to the left with his torch.

"Or it could be that way." Arthur says, gesturing the other way.

"Yes." Merlin acknowledges.

"That's very reassuring." Arthur rolls his eyes.

"Oi, you two." Anne interrupts, trying not to huff and puff because Merlin will know right away that she is in even more pain than before. "Make a decision. Today."

"Fine!" Merlin says, and they end up going left.

——

Arthur and Merlin lead their party through the Caves. Gwen holds onto Anne and, as a result, they trail behind in the group and end up walking beside Tristan.

"So, you know Arthur?" He asks Gwen as they come to a stop in front of large rocks they'll have to climb. Anne feels her already aching back screech in protest.

Gwen, noticing her discomfort, rubs Anne's lower back before offering her a hand to help her climb. "I was a servant in Camelot." Gwen answers Tristan's question.

Anne puts one foot on top of the rock, and Tristan is kind enough to take her other hand and help her up.

"To Arthur?" He goes on once Anne is safely on top of the rock.

"No."

"So, why are you here?" Tristan asks.

"He is my King." Gwen replies.

"I can't say I've detected many kingly qualities so far." Tristan remarks. Anne sends him a glare.

"Well, maybe you don't know him." Gwen sniffs at him.

Despite the immense pain she is in, Anne also finds it in herself to retort. "I've had my fair share of problems in the past with Arthur Pendragon but he's a good man, and a good king. And that is the one thing that I've never doubted."

Tristan turns his head away from them and it looks like that is the last bit of conversation he is willing to give. Anne is thankful as she, firstly, cannot stand Tristan right now and secondly, it's because it is becoming more and more difficult to talk with each passing contraction.

——

The sound of movement coming from behind them stops them all in their tracks, and they all turn their heads to look behind them at the same time.

"I thought you said we'd lost them." Arthur barely breathes.

"I thought I had." Merlin responds just as quietly.

"It won't take long for them to catch us." Tristan states.

Merlin is immediately moving along the line to the back, heading to go back through the tunnel. "I'll go back." He offers.

"What are you gonna do?" Arthur demands.

"Create a diversion."

Arthur reaches out and grabs Merlin's arm before Anne has the chance to. "It's too risky."

"I know these tunnels and Agravaine doesn't." Merlin points out. He hands Arthur his torch. "You keep going."

Anne opens her mouth to protest, but little noises come out instead of words. Merlin turns to her and reaches out to caress her face. He startles a bit when he touches her, probably feeling how much Anne is actually sweating, but brushes it off.

"You have to go, Anne." Merlin insists. His eyes flicker down to her stomach. Anne panics at the thought that he has figured out that she is in labour, but he just looks back up at her and says, "Protect yourself and the baby."

With that, he turns to leave, but Arthur stops him again. "Merlin..." he starts, and he has a look on his face that says that he is worried about him, but he hesitates to say that out loud. "Don't do anything stupid." He settles on.

Merlin glances back the way they came before looking back to Arthur. "Me?" He jokes, but then his expression turns a bit more serious as he says, "Take care of Anne" to Arthur before turning and running.

Anne takes a step forward, but Arthur wraps his arm around her shoulders and pushes her back. "We've got to go." He speaks.

Anne feels another wave of pain wash over her stomach and back, so she lets him lead her away despite the strong urge to follow her husband.

——

Arthur eventually insists on going back for Merlin. Anne tries to follow him but Gwen, Isolde and Tristan push her on. Anne can't wait for this pregnancy to be over and for her to be able to do things without everyone being overprotective of her.

After a few minutes of walking, they hear footsteps again, and behind them, Merlin and Arthur emerge. Anne's chest loosens, and she hobbles over to Merlin.

"You're okay!" She breathes as she cups his face, but the look in his eyes tells Anne that he actually isn't. Something had happened.

"I'll tell you later." He communicates telepathically. Anne nods, taking her hands from his cheeks to his hands and gives them a tight squeeze. He turns her around and supports her back once more as they continue on.

Finally, they make it to the other side of the mountain. They eventually decide to hold up in the Forest of Essetir where they'll be safe for now and where they might find other survivors. Anne experienced another squeeze in her abdomen while they had talked.

Arthur had tried to lead them, insisting they keep going for now, but it was obvious that thinking of plans and enforcing them, like he is so used to doing, was becoming difficult for him. Merlin had been particularly firm about stopping to rest, saying that Anne needs to rest, worried all the stress will bring on an early labour. Anne and Gwen had shared a look, both knowing it is too late for that.

——

Amelia's POV

After one night, Amelia is already beginning to feel some of the effects of hunger but she pushes it down to focus on those around her, her friends who have been starving and are only receiving small morsels of bread, but in truth, she can't do that for long, she has someone else to care for.

Gwaine is slumped in a corner, manacles on his wrists like Amelia's though non-spelled ones. He has some cuts and bruises that Amelia has tried to clean the best she can with a bit of torn fabric from her clothes.

Elyan tends to Gaius who is lying on the bed, pale and weak. "Come on, Gaius, hold fast." He pleads.

Amelia watches with tears in her eyes.

Suddenly, some Southron Guards open the Cell. One restrains Elyan while the other picks up Gwaine. Amelia panics

"Gwaine!" She cries frantically, running towards them but a third Guard pushes her back.

"Don't worry, at least we get to eat." Gwaine reassures them, trying to give them a soothing smile as he's escorted out.

Amelia grabs the bars as the Southron locks the Cell door, her heart in her stomach.

——

Anne's POV

"Are you alright?" Merlin whispers in Anne's ear once he laid out his jacket onto the ground and helped her settle on top of it. They had found a spot to camp for the night and Merlin had insisted Anne rest while the others make camp.

"I'm fine." Anne insists. She stretches her legs out in front of her, not caring how unladylike it is. Anne braces her hands behind her and tips her head back. She breathes in heavily through gritted teeth. "I just need a little breather."

"Okay." Merlin says, sitting down next to her.

"No, you need to help the others."

Merlin frowns. "But—"

"I'll be fine." Anne argues. Her husband finally nods and stands. He gives her a kiss on the head, drapes his jacket on top of her and leaves her be.

Anne rolls over and tries to sleep. But it's difficult as the sharp pangs are slowly moving closer together, which is a worry. From what she remembers of what Gaius and Midwives in Camelot told her about childbirth that she remembers is that when contractions get closer together, then it is almost time to start pushing. Her only relief is that they are not too frequent yet and she has no urge to push.

——

Amelia's POV

Gwaine stumbles into the Cell. Amelia rushes forward to catch him and ease him to the ground as best she can. She frantically looks over him for new wounds. She frowns as she discovers new ones and gets out her bit of fabric, spitting on it and dabbling. Gwaine smiles thankfully.

"I see you're receiving high quality care Sir Knight." Comes the sarcastic voice of her older half sister. Amelia turns and shoots a glare at Morgana who stands in the doorway, smirking, with a half loaf of bread in her hand. Morgana ignores her and says, "Enjoy your supper." She tosses the bread into the Cell. "I fear it'll be your last." Morgana exits and the Southrons lock the Cell door.

Elyan moves to where Gaius lies and tries to give some bread to him. "You need to eat."

"Whether I eat or not, I'm not long for this world." Gaius croaks tiredly.

Amelia goes to them in alarm. "No, Gaius! You can't say such things!"

"I'm a Physician, Amelia. I've spent my days watching the cycle of life. If there's one thing I'm not afraid of, it's death." Gaius replies. "Don't waste your food, Elyan. If Gwaine has to fight again, he'll need all the strength he can get, and Amelia needs the strength for her child."

Elyan sighs, leaving the bread with Gaius.

——

Anne's POV

Anne eventually falls asleep. She doesn't know how long it's been by the time she gets shaken awake again.

Anne peeks her eyes open and turns her head to look at Merlin. "What?" She asks dreamily. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm going to go call for Kilgharrah." Merlin answers. "I just thought I should let you know."

Anne frowns in confusion. "Why? What's happening?" She questions.

"It's Arthur. He's beginning to lose faith in himself. I need to do something." Merlin explains.

"Alright." Anne says, sitting up and pushing his jacket off her. "I'll come with you."

"No." Merlin insists, pushing her back down. "We might be leaving camp tomorrow, and I want you to be as rested as possible."

Before Anne can protest, a pang of pain punches her stomach. She scrunches up her face in pain and nods. "Okay. You're right."

"Anne, are you okay?" Merlin asks, cupping her face. "Is the pain getting worse?"

"Nothing that I can't handle." Anne is quick to assure him.

His eyes suddenly widen as he looks down to her stomach. "Is it the baby? Are they coming?" Merlin moves his hand to touch her stomach.

Anne grips his hand before he can, worried that it'll alert him to the truth. "No!" She whispers. "It's not the baby." She hates lying to him, but she knows how much this Arthur problem is bothering him, and she doesn't want to cause him any more trouble. "Go, talk to Kilgharrah. Hopefully he'll have some helpful advice."

With a worried look, Merlin ultimately kisses her softly before getting up and running through the forest. Anne lays back down on the ground and wraps Merlin's jacket around her front. She closes her eyes and tries to get some more sleep, hoping that when she wakes, they'd have a plan.

——

Merlin had returned and told Anne that Kilgharrah had said that all Merlin needed to do was make Arthur believe in himself again. He tells her of the plan that he has come up with before directing Anne to where everyone has gathered while he goes to wake Arthur up. Knights, Courtiers, and peasants. Kilgharrah had helped find them. The first people she sees are Percival and Leon.

"Percival! Leon!" She cries happily as she waddles over to them. Anne can't wait for the time when she'll be able to run normally.

"Anne!" Leon cries back happily as he and Percival move to meet her halfway.

Anne wraps each of them up in their own hug. "I am so pleased to see you both safe."

"Not all of us." Percival remarks almost darkly.

Anne takes a moment to observe the bags under his eyes and how drained he looks overall. She doubts Percival has had any sleep, worrying about what might be happening to his wife.

She places her hands on his upper arms to comfort him. "We will save her, Percival. As well as the others." Percival nods, his face full of determination.

Another wave of pain wash over her stomach and back. The labour pains are definitely getting closer and stronger. She bites back the pain but both Leon and Percival have already noticed.

"Anne?" Leon questions confused before it dawns on him. "The baby's coming!"

"Ssh! I'd rather you don't tell Merlin, not yet." Anne quips casually as she can as she breathes through the last bit of the pain.

Percival and Leon look at her in alarm. "He doesn't know?!" The former quietly exclaims.

"Not yet and I would prefer it to stay that way for now."

Before they can say anymore, Arthur and Merlin emerge from the trees. As Arthur walks closer, they all emerge themselves. Arthur looks at them all, stunned.

Merlin is smiling, proud. Arthur glances back at him, furiously muttering at him. Anne would guess that Arthur is panicked about this.

Merlin and Arthur mutter amongst themselves. Arthur glances back at the crowd of people surrounding the sword in the stone before turning to talk to Merlin again. Anne watches on anxiously.

Arthur then draws his sword and sticks it to the ground. With one last comment directed at Merlin, he approaches the stone slowly. Arthur looks up at the crowd hesitantly, then places both hands on the hilt. He tries to pull it up, but the sword doesn't budge. Arthur shakes with effort, but the sword doesn't move. Anne doesn't dare look at anyone else, only Arthur.

Arthur lets go of the sword and turns to Merlin. Merlin says something that seems to work as Arthur repositions himself. He places one hand on the sword hilt and closes his eyes. He lifts his chin, willing himself to believe.

Everyone is so focused on Arthur, that they don't see Merlin's eyes glow as the sword is released. Arthur pulls it out and into the air, staring at it, amazed. The people watch in awe.

"Long live the King!" Leon shouts.

The entire crowd takes up the chant before rushing in to honour their king. "Long live the King! Long live the King! Long live the King! Long live the King! Long live the King!"

——

Anne keeps her distance as Arthur strategises with Percival, Leon, and Merlin. She sees how tense and aggravated Percival is and Anne doesn't blame him. His wife is being imprisoned by the enemy, her own sister, and God knows what's happened.

Later, night has fallen, and Anne sees that Arthur is in deep thought, frowning, as he walks past where she leans against a tree.

"Arthur?" Anne calls. "You all right?"

"Yes." Doesn't sound like it.

"Do you think there are too many of them?" She questions.

"Southrons are people like you and me. Men we can fight. But Morgana..." Arthur shakes his head. "Her power is so great, and we've got nothing to answer it with."

I wouldn't be so sure about that...

Anne thinks for a moment before speaking, "I doubt Merlin finished Gaius' story."

"Not now, Anne, please."

"Will you just listen?"

Anne puts her hands on her hips, giving him a pointed look, and Arthur lowers his head in acquiescence.

"When the sword was thrust into the stone, the ancient King foretold that one day it would be freed again at a time when Camelot needed it most. The man who freed it would unite the land of Albion and rule over the greatest Kingdom the world has ever known. That man is you, Arthur." Arthur's brow furrows and Anne smiles.

"You're making this up." He accuses.

"Why would I do that? Your head's already as big as your waist." Anne remarks with a wide grin.

Arthur scoffs. "Of course, he told you."

"I believe it, though. And I believe in you. So, does Merlin. We always have." Anne declares.

Arthur looks at Excalibur and considers what Anne said before walking off, leaving Anne on her own.

"Nice work." Anne turns to see Merlin coming to stand next to her. He must've overheard them.

Anne smiles. "Learnt from the best." He returns it. They stand quietly for a few seconds, just watching the crowd, before Anne speaks up, "Something's been bothering me."

"What? Is it the baby?" Merlin immediately panics, looking down at her stomach.

"What? No." Anne shakes her head, though who knows? In a few hours, it could be the baby. "Agravaine was chasing us in the tunnels. And then he wasn't." She looks over to Merlin, who has gone quiet and sullen. "What did you do to stop him?"

When Merlin doesn't look at her, she knows instantly. Anne's chest softens, and she cups her hand over her mouth. Anne has never liked Agravaine in the slightest and is actually glad that he is dead, but her husband doesn't deserve his death on his conscience.

Anne reaches forward and puts her hands on Merlin's cheeks, forcing him to look at her. He has a stony look on his face, but Anne can see the guilt in his blue eyes. "You had to do it." Anne tells him sternly, and he nods solemnly at her words. "You had no choice. Agravaine's choices led him to that tunnel, and you did what you had to do to protect us." Anne shakes her head. "Don't think for one second that this makes you a bad person."

Merlin nods again, and Anne steps forward and wraps her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. He snakes his arms around her waist. Anne feels a few wet drops on her shoulders.

"I have an idea about what we can do to weaken Morgana." Anne says softly.

Merlin pulls back and looks at her questioningly. "What?"

Anne smirks.

——

Amelia's POV

Amelia is sitting slumped in the Cell in Camelot. She feels hungry but she knows she's not feeling it as badly as the others because they all keep insisting on giving her most of the food because of her pregnancy.

It's night, the others are sleeping while Amelia finds herself unable to. It is then she suddenly senses a strong burst of magic. She sits up quickly. She can't explain it, but she knows that the magic feels like Merlin. She feels it happen again.

The warning bells begin to sound, waking the others. Elyan and Gwaine pull themselves up from their sleeping positions, mumbling in confusion but Amelia ignores them.

She grins to herself. It's finally happening.

——

Anne's POV

The pains are getting worse and closer now. Anne finds herself sitting on a log, bent over in pain with Gwen and some of the Villagers surrounding her. She knows that it's getting too close to the time she will actually give birth, she can't keep this on hold any longer.

"You need to tell him, Anne." Gwen pleads.

Anne nods. "Fine."

Gwen looks to where Merlin stands further away and calls, "Merlin..."

He turns and heads over to them, looking panicked. Anne isn't trying to hide anymore, she can't so she must look in a right state.

"Anne..." Merlin begins, "I..." he jolts forward as Anne hunches over, Gwen grabbing her arm for support, another woman rushing to rub her back, as Anne's hand flies to her stomach. "What is it? What's wrong?!"

His cries drew the attention of the others, which is not something Anne wants at the moment, but there is little else she can do as her pains are too unbearable to hide now and far too frequent. She bites her lip hard, taking as deep of breaths as she can manage till the pain passes. She has to be quick; she knows she has mere seconds left before another will come.

"I'm sorry." She murmurs. "I should have told you before."

"Told me what?" Merlin steps closer, putting a hand on her stomach, feeling how firm it is. "Is something wrong with the baby?"

"Quite the opposite." Anne breathes. "It's coming."

He blinks. "What?"

"The baby is coming sooooon..." Anne creases over in pain again. She tries to breathe through it.

"Anne how could you not tell me this before!?" He nearly shouts at her. Arthur, who seems to have wandered over without Anne realising, stands behind him, wide eyed and panicked.

"I didn't want to distract you." She knows it's a silly excuse now.

"And this won't?!"

Anne reaches out and grabs his hand. "No," she speaks, "this will focus you. You go in there, and you fight harder. You fight to give our child a home to return to. And you fight with everything you have to get back to us."

Merlin swallows hard and nods.

"Percival," Arthur begins to say, Anne looks up to see the Knight standing nearby, watching her in concern as she experiences another wave of pain, "I am trusting you to get her to the Physician's Chambers, safely."

"On my life." The man bows his head.

——

Amelia's POV

Amelia gets awoken when the warning bells sound a second time. She can hear fighting in the distance and this can only mean one thing. Time to reclaim Camelot. The others wake too.

It's not long before they hear commotion heading towards the Dungeons. Amelia, Gwaine and Elyan go to the bars. Amelia feels relief flood her Percival arrives around the corner with Leon following him.

"Percival!" Amelia cries happily.

"Come on, boys. What's taking you so long?" Gwaine jokes despite his weakened state as while Amelia and Elyan are standing at the bars, he had to pull himself to it on the ground.

Leon tosses Percival the keys and he opens the Cell. Amelia wastes no time launching herself at her husband.

They pull back and Percival cradles her face. "You all right?"

Amelia leans forward and kisses him. "Been better."

He frowns when he notices the shackles on her wrists. He immediately unlocks them with the keys he's holding, convenient. Amelia feels her magic return to her and she feels able to breathe properly for the first time in days.

Percival turns to Elyan and they grasp arms. "You all right?" He asks him.

"I've been locked up with Gwaine for a week." Elyan jokes. Amelia laughs, almost feeling giddy.

Leon enters and supports Gwaine out of the Cell while Percival goes to Gaius, who's lying weakly on the bed.

"Gaius. Come on." He urges. Percival and Elyan help Gaius up. Amelia follows them out.

"Where's Anne?" Amelia questions, immediately thinking of her heavily pregnant friend who's been on the run.

"Gaius' Chambers." Percival tells her as they move through the Dungeons.

Amelia looks at him in alarm. "Is she?"

"She's in labour."

Amelia's eyes widen in shock. "I need to see her!" She turns to leave but Percival stops her.

"Wait, Amelia, Anne can wait, she's safe. Arthur is heading to the Council Chambers to confront Morgana. Go join him." He tells her.

To deal with Morgana. She needs to be there. Percival and Elyan turn to leave with Gaius.

"Wait I—"

They stop and turn to her, and Percival asks, "What?"

"Nothing, it can wait. I'll go find Arthur." She turns, grabs a sword from a Southron on the ground and runs off.

She knows she needs to tell him but now is not the right time.

——

Amelia is not as strong as she could be, but she pushes through it as she fights the Southrons, making her way to the Council Chambers. She reaches the Council Chambers and hears fighting just around the corner. She comes round it and sees Arthur, Merlin, Gwen (!) and a man and a woman Amelia doesn't know defeating the Southrons guarding the door.

Merlin spots her first. "Amelia!"

She gives them a weak smile. "Long time no see."

"Gwen!" Amelia cries, wrapping her friend in a tight hug. "I've missed you!" She pulls back.

Gwen smiles. "I've missed you too."

"It's good to see you." Arthur says, giving her a nod before focusing on the Council Chamber doors. Right, reunions can happen later, time to deal with Morgana.

The unknown man and woman give her polite nods as they get ready to storm the room.

"Ready?" Arthur asks them. They all nod, raising their swords. Arthur raises his own sword, which Amelia recognises as Excalibur?!

"For the love of Camelot!" They cry as they charge into the Council Chambers, but stop short when they find only Morgana lounging on the throne, Helios standing near it. Amelia can see the scratches she has caused have begun to scab over.

"Welcome, dear brother." Morgana greets. "It's been far too long. I see you've found my sister. I would watch myself around her, she can be vicious." Morgana gets up and walks toward them. "I apologise if you had a difficult reception. It's hard to know who to trust these days."

Morgana stops in the middle and Arthur approaches her slowly. He raises Excalibur with an open hand to show he's not attacking her, and she watches him warily until he places the sword in his belt. He meets her in the middle. Amelia stays back, knowing this needs to be a conversation between the two of them.

"What happened to you Morgana?" Arthur asks softly. Morgana looks him in the eye almost regretfully, the hurt plain on both their faces and in their voices. "I thought we were friends."

"As did I," Morgana replies softly but then her voice hardens, "but alas, we were both wrong."

"You can't blame me for my father's sins."

"It's a little late for that. You've made it perfectly clear how you feel about me and my kind. You're not as different from Uther as you'd like to think." Morgana retorts harshly.

"Nor are you." Arthur counters.

Morgana becomes angry and backs away. "I'm going to enjoy killing you, Arthur Pendragon. Not even Emrys can save you now."

"Please tell me you can." Amelia calls to Merlin.

"Don't worry. I've got something."

Arthur draws Excalibur, the others raise their swords. Amelia knows she needs to be ready for anything.

Morgana smirks amusedly. "Your blades cannot stop me."

Amelia watches as Merlin braces himself as Morgana chants, "Hleap on bæc."

Nothing happens except the sound of what sounds like whispers. Morgana is confused and Arthur watches her reaction, still waiting for her attack. Morgana tries the spell again, raising her hand for strength, sounding frightened, "Hleap on bæc!"

Amelia looks at Merlin and realises that he seems to be absorbing Morgana's magic with the effigy's whispers. Morgana is unable to use magic.

"Not so powerful now, my lady." Arthur remarks.

Helios pulls Morgana behind him as she panics. Morgana takes this chance to run off.

"After her!" Arthur calls.

Amelia doesn't hesitate and floods into the corridors with Gwen and Merlin behind her, splitting up in the hopes of finding her.

Amelia takes on some of the Southrons with her sword as she makes her way through the corridors in search of her sister.

She turns a corner and stares down the corridor. Amelia charges down it when suddenly she feels a piercing pain in her left side. She cries in pain before spinning around and slashing her attacker, one of the Southron men, across the front causing him to fall down. Amelia winces as she grasps her wound with her right hand.

Oh, god. Oh no, no, no.

But she can't stop now, she can't think about it, so she continues on, holding her sword in her left hand and charges forward.

——

Amelia turns a corner, stumbling, as she hears in the distance. She sees Gwen and Morgana locked in battle. But as she is superior in her sword fighting skills, Morgana disarms Gwen. She steps forward to kill Gwen, but Amelia leaps forward despite her injuries and bars Morgana's sword with her own.

Morgana's eyes widen in surprise. "Amelia..." Then her eyes harden. "What are you doing here?!" She spits.

"I can't let you kill her Morgana!" Amelia cries.

Amelia begins fighting her sister with their swords, however, Amelia begins to lose because of her injury. Morgana is able to disarm her.

Morgana smirks. "Not so strong now sister."

But then suddenly both of them are knocked to the ground by an unnatural force. Parts of the ceiling collapses and Amelia loses consciousness due to the force and the dizziness she had begun to feel due to her blood loss.

Gwen's POV

The corridor is filled with rubble smoke meaning Gwen loses sight of both Morgana and Amelia. She tries to squint through the smoke when a hand touches her arm causing her to jump before relaxing when she sees its Merlin.

"You all right?" He asks her.

Gwen shakily nods. "Yes."

Merlin steps forward towards the rubble smoke.

"What happened?" Gwen asks. She's confused about what had just happened. When the smoke clears, Gwen leans forward, expecting to see the two sisters but instead, there is nothing there.

"I don't know." Merlin murmurs in reply to her earlier question.

Both of them quickly leave.

——

Merlin's POV

Merlin runs to Gaius' Chambers. His hands are shaking from watching Tristan cradle Isolde as she died. Seeing the devastation on Tristan's face had reminded Merlin that he had not seen Anne since that morning when they began to retake Camelot.

The door is opened by Jean, one of the maids, and he skids around her and then comes to a complete stop when he sees what's inside.

His heart warms and he cautiously steps inside. His heart pounds as he looks over to where Anne sits upright in one of the cots.

He can see that her skin is clammy and there are bruises under her eyes, but that doesn't dim her smile as she gazes upon the small bundle that lays in her arms, cooing at it. She's the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. Merlin can see dark hair sticking out of its confines.

Anne's smile widens when she looks up and her eyes land on him as he stands in the doorway. "Merlin..." He sees the tears in her eyes.

Merlin finds himself able to move and he strides over to his wife. "Anne...." He sits tentatively on the edge of the cot, not quite able to see what lies in the bundle.

Anne tilts her arms, and he gets the first glimpse of his child. Merlin stares at them a moment, just... utterly stunned by the sight of it, his baby, his and Anne's baby. He looks quickly at their hands and feet, 10 fingers, 10 toes, breathing and moving and alive.

"What do you think of our daughter?"

"She's—" Merlin cuts himself off as he lets out a gasp when his daughter opens her eyes. Eyes that match his. He reaches out a finger towards his daughter and strokes her tiny fist. It unclasps and grips his finger with surprising strength. "Are you– are you well? What happened? Is she—"

"We're fine." She reassures him.

Merlin nods, calming. He wiggles a finger that the baby holds in her tiny fist. "What are we going to call her?"

"Well, Amelia had a few good suggestions." Anne pauses. "Wait, where is she? Have you found her?"

Merlin internally winces, how does he explain this? "I don't know."

Anne frowns. "What do you mean you don't know? Where is she?" She's sounding increasingly frantic.

"Morgana, Amelia, they've disappeared." Merlin admits.

"No, no. She can't. We were meant to find her; she was meant to tell Percival about the baby—" Anne cuts herself off, wide eyed as she realises what she's just confessed.

Merlin stares at her shocked. "Amelia is pregnant."

Anne chews her lip and nods. "Yes, she is."

Merlin frowns as he thinks of how wounded Amelia had seemed to be before she vanished. He wonders if she still is but thinks it's best not to tell Anne at the moment as she's already distressed about Amelia disappearing.

It's quiet for a moment before Anne speaks, "Faye."

"What?" Merlin asks.

"Faye. That was Amelia's pick." Anne explains. "I want to call her Faye."

"Faye it is."

They smile softly at each other and share a soft kiss.

——

Anne's POV

As everything begins to calm and they begin to rebuild after what had happened, everyone is sent into a frenzy over the disappearance of Amelia. Arthur sends out patrols and leads some of them himself but there is no sign.

The King, while desperate to find his cousin, is reluctant to leave his new Queen and wife's side. Yes, Arthur and Gwen had finally gotten married, and Gwen had been crowned Queen.

Anne had stood next to her husband, with her daughter in her arms, beaming as it happened. The whole scene played out just as Amelia had told her, but Anne now realises that Amelia never mentioned anything about her being there and that thought, as well as Amelia actually not being there, brought a dampener to the whole event.

——

Amelia's POV

Amelia wakes to find she's in the middle of a forest and she is still injured and bleeding despite a crude attempt to bandage her injuries. She also notices Morgana is with her, who wastes no time in pulling Amelia along the best she can, but they continue to stumble along the way. Amelia wants to be anywhere but with her sister and tries to fight her off but, considering her weakened state, Amelia isn't too successful.

"Get off!" Amelia is finally successful in shoving Morgana away. Now she no longer has someone holding her up, she collapses to the floor, leaning on her left arm while she holds the wound on her left side. She grunts in pain.

"But Amelia you're injured." Morgana pleads.

"Oh really?" Amelia remarks sarcastically. "I hadn't noticed." She's feeling somewhat dizzy and is finding it hard to focus.

"I tried to wrap up the wound, but we need to get somewhere better to heal you."

Amelia narrows her eyes at her sister. "Are you sure you are not up to something? One of your schemes?"

Morgana growls and tries to pull Amelia up. "No!" She snaps. She fails in pulling Amelia up so let's go and Amelia flops back on the floor. "Why is it so hard for you to think I have a heart?!"

Amelia blearily looks up to her half sister. "For one, what you did to Gwen. You have tried to get her killed multiple times."

"I had to!" Morgana insists. "She was taking my throne."

"No, you did not. She never wanted be queen nor did she mean to fall in love with Arthur." Amelia argues, gasping as she's short of breath. "She only ever wanted is for Arthur to be happy. But now Arthur will marry her as he's found her again and there's nothing you can do about it."

There are black dots in her vision. She tries to blink them away, but it doesn't work, and she fully collapses to the ground, barely keeping her eyes open.

"Amelia? Amelia!" Amelia faintly hears Morgana cry and then begins shaking Amelia, but Amelia is too tired to respond.

That is until she feels a small fluttering of wind across her face and what feels like someone is breathing on her. Amelia feels a whole new burst of energy and is able to open her eyes and pull herself up slightly. She gasps when her eyes land on small Aithusa sitting on a rock, watching her. Where is Kiligharrah?

Aithusa watches her for a moment but doesn't linger and flies away.

"Who was that?" Morgana asks as Aithusa flies away. Amelia had forgotten she is there.

"Aithusa." Amelia murmurs in wonder.

——

A/N: I'm in disbelief about the fact that I've actually made it to the end of season 4???!!! Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

Merlin will return

#bbc merlin #merlin

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byneddiedingo · 1 year

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John Garfield and Joan Crawford in Humoresque (Jean Negulesco, 1946) Cast: Joan Crawford, John Garfield, Oscar Levant, J. Carrol Naish, Ruth Nelson, Joan Chandler, Tom D'Andrea, Peggy Knudsen, Craig Stevens, Paul Cavanagh, Richard Gaines, Robert Blake. Screenplay: Clifford Odets, Zachary Gold, based on a story by Fannie Hurst. Cinematography: Ernest Haller. Art direction: Hugh Reticker. Film editing: Rudi Fehr. Music: Franz Waxman. Jean Negulesco's Humoresque gets its title from the Fannie Hurst short story it's based on, but it also evokes the music played behind the opening title: the seventh of Antonín Dvořák's Humoresques, a group of short piano pieces that were later transcribed for orchestra. The music is best known today for the several facetious lyrics that have been attached to it, including "Passengers will please refrain from flushing toilets while the train is standing in the station." Today, the movie also inspires similar irreverence, as an example of the melodramatic excesses of Joan Crawford's later career. How many drag queens have donned replicas of the Adrian gowns Crawford wears in the film, with shoulder pads so wide and sharp you fear that she could injure a bystander with a sudden turn? But there are far worse movies than Humoresque, and far less impressive performances than Crawford's in it. She doesn't appear until well into the film, after we've established the ruthless desire of Paul Boray (John Garfield) to become a famous concert violinist. All he needs, it seems, is a rich patron, so when he meets Helen Wright (Crawford), who has the money and nothing else to do with it but take lovers and drink, his fate is sealed. It's not like he doesn't have people to warn him off: There's his fellow musician, pianist Sid Jeffers (Oscar Levant), who can't supply much more than cynical wisecracks to keep Paul from doing the wrong thing. And there's his mother (Ruth Nelson), who bought him his first violin but now wants him to settle down with fellow starving musician Gina (Joan Chandler) and raise a family. But once Paul falls into Helen's clutches and becomes a hugely successful concert artist, all Mama and Gina can do is sit in the audience and glare up at Helen in her box -- though Gina sometimes bursts into tears and flees the auditorium. None of this would work if Garfield and Crawford didn't play their roles as well as they do. Garfield brings all the intensity and conviction to Paul that he does to his ambitious boxer in Body and Soul (Robert Rossen, 1947). Although the violin playing is actually done by Isaac Stern, with some nice camera trickery that puts Garfield's face and Stern's fingers in the same frame, Garfield keeps up the illusion well, to the extent of busily working the fingers on his left hand, practicing the fingering even when he's not playing. He has some improbable lines to speak -- the screenplay by Clifford Odets and Zachary Gold is freighted with them -- but he makes them work. As for Crawford, ambition was her nature and ruthlessness her forte in life as well as art, but she never just speaks her lines -- she inhabits them. There's no surprise in her performance, but that's not what we want from her. Negulesco's direction can be a little shapeless -- there's a gratuitous mid-film montage depicting a busy, hyped-up New York City -- but he handles the concluding sequence, set to a pastiche of themes from Tristan und Isolde, very well. Franz Waxman received an Oscar nomination for scoring, and there are excerpts from composers like Tchaikovsky, Brahms, Bizet, Mendelssohn, and Bach throughout: The film is a reminder that there was once a time when the audience for a Hollywood film would sit through extended passages of classical music.

#Humoresque #Jean Negulesco #John Garfield #Joan Crawford

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multistoty · 1 year

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There was certainly something magical about this figure.People aren't born good or bad. Maybe they're born with tendencies either way, but its the way you live your life that matters. Likewise, the future queen did not judge magic when it was shown to her. You can’t judge a trees fruitfulness from a distance without finding some poison apples lumped in with the good or a beat up gem among the bunch. Some things aren't meant to be known. Only believed.Faith and science, I have learned, are two sides of the same coin, separated by an expanse so small, but wide enough that one side can't see the other. They don't know they are connected. There's plenty of sense in nonsense sometimes, if you wish to look for it. Words have longer lives than people.It was books that made her feel that perhaps, even surrounded by attendants, Isolde was not completely alone. They could be honest with her, and she with them. This woman fascinated her, her contradictions, her secrets, and the girl that sometimes surfaced from beneath her tough soldier exterior, like when she spotted the wish stalks on the bank. The girl who forgot who I was and pressed a wish stalk to my ankle. In another world, another circumstance, I think we might have been friends. Like she had been alive before her and tried to hate it all though found its beauty. Being the lone heir to a court that had always been steady and courted peace with a heavy hand took much from you with the joys of beautiful gowns and lavender soaked baths.Pieces.A bit for someone here.A bit there.And sometimes they don't add up to anything whole.But you are so busy dancing.Delivering.You don't have time to notice.Or are afraid to notice.

And then one day you have to look.And it's true.All of your pieces fill up other people's holes.But they don't fill your own. This world, it breathes you in, sniffs, it knows you, and then it breathes you out again, shares you. You’re not contained here in this single place alone. The wind, time, it circles, repeats, teaches, reveals, some swaths cutting deeper than others. The universe knows. The universe has a long memory. The brunette was called the sweet princess. A people pleaser for sure, but she had some type of warrior inside of her and this woman had spoken about some sort of witch prophecy and accused her own guardsmen of thinking her to weak to stop a coup. There are many words and definitions the future monarch has never lost. But some she was only just beginning to truly understand. It hadn’t made complete sense that her guardsman and childhood friend lover would betray her in such a way. Let the realm fall this way. A slide into hell from the heaven she had planned upon continuing, It doesn't always take an army to save the world. Sometimes it takes just one person who won't let evil win. Working with this beautiful woman felt inevitable. Wether this partnership felt like algae eating up the water of their lakes or a rock creating small ripples was beyond her. As snarky as the other girl seemed to be, she hadn’t commented about Isolde’s fondness for formal gowns and the paints that could decorate one’s face. Even if she had a childlike want to run through the fields without shoes. The gardens a memory of Ziva, her mother. The greatest queen of the realm who had once been the sister of a magical blacksmith. Magic and servant weren’t things people loved though she was beautiful, steadfast, kind, and understanding. The people were happy. Yet, the nobles had always upturned their nose. To murder their heir- that seemed to far. Not that she didn’t carry a dagger or stay wary. It was just hard to find uses for your knowledge of violence in a place where constables and guards were only needed enough to fit on one’s hands. There was something coming. Brewing. That almost made her believing the begrudging stranger who once again appeared. Chance. It weaves through our lives like a golden thread, sometimes knotting, tangling, and breaking along the way. Loose threads are left hanging, but the in and out, the back and forth continues, the weaving goes on. It doesn't stop. There were many ways a life could be sacrificed, and it wasn’t always through dying. Seconds could change everything. Seconds could erase one path and send you reeling down another. a little exaggeration was always expected when describing weapons, victories, and body parts. Confluence-a coming together by chance.. Together they become something greater, but it isn't delicate or sweet. Like a raging river, a confluence can lead to something impossible to predict or control... Yet sometimes the coming together, the confluence of destinies, seemed not to be by chance at all. Greater stories will have their way. Coffee stained eyes held their usual warmth as they took the other woman in. There are all kinds of friends you make in life... But there's something different about someone who spreads their wings with you. “So, you want me to follow someone who has magically appeared twice ina giant ball gown to stop some sort of prophecy that will destroy my family and the realm if I don’t take off with you. I l ike to see the good in people, but even if your right- the crown, the dress. Why should I trust you with this? It’s more than my life here. And I may like pretty girls, but I don’t like you that way to frolic about in the forest with the assurance of death, destruction, despair, and anything else. I actually have a thesaurus over her. We haven’t had any fighting over the throne in three centuries.”but she was the first female heir. And a believer in more freedoms for magic users.

@everguiltridden

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sabineelectricheart · 2 years

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A Father’s Worst Nightmare [Pt. 2]

Summary: The time has finally come for Byleth and Sylvain to tie the knot, and Jeralt has some feelings about it, and also about Isolde.

Rating: K - Intended for general audience 5 years and older. Content should be free of any coarse language, violence, and adult themes.

Words: 1500

Notes: This. Is. So. CUTE! For once, also without delays. Enjoy!

Jeralt had been working overtime to pay for the wedding. He is aware and he counts his blessings every night, they had a very comfortable life standard, especially considering the province where they lived. Nevertheless, he insisted to be the one to pay for this circus and, he came to find the hard way, the margravial family is in a whole other level.

Truth be told, though, he would much rather be working than going from dress shop to dress shop and talking chocolate praline versus raspberry filled lemon cake and trying to help decide which dinner to serve and what refreshments would be best at the reception.

That Saturday, however, he could no longer avoid all the wedding preparation. The bridesmaid dresses, the wedding gown, the cake, and even the flowers had all been chosen. The only thing left on the list was the tuxedos for the groom and the rest of the bride’s family, and the father of the bride, unfortunately, could not get out of it.

They were meeting at the men's store that afternoon. Sitri was driving over with her brother and their niece, and Jeralt was supposed to go with Sylvain and Byleth, as he did not know where the shop was, and no-one seemed to trust him alone with the GPS in Gautier.

He knocked on the door, glancing at his watch. He was a little early, but he wanted to get this all over with. Like ripping out a bandage, if he tried to be quick and easy, not resisting it too much, perhaps it goes down almost painfully.

The door swung open to let him in, but before he could say a word, Byleth was already walking back into the house, calling over her shoulder, "I need just another minute, yes?"

He nodded, tersely.

"Sorry I'm early." He said, stepping into the house and closing the door. “I didn’t know how long it would take to walk over from the hotel.”

Contrary to his wife’s expectations, Byleth did take off far and away when she went to college. First, at Garreg Mach, and later settling in Béthune, the prefecture in Gautier, likely following her fiancé up and down the country.

The margravial family insisted to have the wedding in their home turf, instead of by the Lake Teutates, as his daughter actually wanted. Before the blood ran over to his head and Jeralt could pummel the margrave, his son-in-law offered for him and Sitri to stay at a hotel on his expense, so that the woman could also help out and make sure that a suitable compromise could be reached between the noble demands and whatever Byleth’s little heart desires.

It is, indeed, a very nice hotel.

"Do not worry about it!" Byleth, already out of sight, shouted from the stairs. "I'm just running behind. We’ll be right off!"

He nodded despite the fact that she could not see him and rocked a little on his heels. His eyes had wandered to the array of photos hung on every inch of the hallway walls when he heard the giggling.

He smiled.

Well, if he had to spend the day trying on tuxes, at least he could start the morning off with his perfect little girl. He walked into the kitchen, frowning for a moment. He did not see anyone.

"Hi, Grandpa!" A childish voice was heard suddenly.

Jeralt's eyes shot to the kitchen table, and to his son-in-law and granddaughter sitting under it. Isolde was dressed up in a tutu, her hair in tiny braids, a feathery sash around her neck and trailing on the ground behind her, and a great deal of Byleth's old make-up scattered all around her button-like face.

"Look, Grandpa!" She said, tugging on her dad's hand to pull him out from under the table. "I'm giving Daddy a makeover!"

Sure enough, Sylvain had bright blue eye shadow spread all around his eyes, two thick streaks of blush on his cheeks, and shining sparkling lip gloss on his mouth. His hair was even done up in three uneven ponytails.

"Honey." Jeralt said, stifling laughter from seeing that boy’s face smeared with make-up. "You've got a natural talent."

Isolde beamed, leaning on her father, and tugging a little on his hair, as if to make it just right.

"The blue really makes his eyes pop, does not it?" Byleth asked, coming downstairs and crossing through the room. "Isolde, if you're going to wear that out, at least put your shoes on."

She disappeared into the living room, and the child, bouncy and energetic, raced after her. Jeralt knew his daughter was hassled right now, what with her new job (in teaching, of course), her burgeoning second pregnancy, and how very involved she was in this wedding.

He secretly loved how much time and dedication that his daughter spent planning the wedding. He loved that she is so invested in it, since he always thought she would never care for such things, and he loved that he could provide her with this, but he hated how over-worked she seemed.

Sylvain stood, stretching a little, and Jeralt handed him a paper towel.

"Thanks." Sylvain replied, rubbing at his make-up.

"Daddy!" Isolde shouted, aghast, having returned with her shoes clutched in her chubby hands. "You're messing it up!"

"You can fix it for me later, baby." Sylvain told her. "And I'll leave the ponytails in, okay?"

Jeralt swallowed a laugh at what Sylvain would look like in a tux shop with his hair looking like that.

"I guess that's fine." Isolde conceded.

"Why do not you go finish getting ready and I'll help her with her shoes?" Jeralt suggested, squatting down to pull Isolde to him.

Sylvain nodded his thanks and disappeared out of the kitchen.

The dotting grandfather smiled at the girl. "Let's get those shoes on."

She let him shove her little stocking-covered feet into the light up shoes, only kicking playfully once, but when he started to tie them, she stopped him.

"No, no, no! I can do it! Look." With her tongue held between her teeth, concentration etched into her face, she slowly looped her laces and tied her left shoe and then her right. "Look!"

"Wow," he said. "Those are the best tied shoes I've ever seen!"

She smiled widely, her amber eyes dancing. He knew she had only started learning a little over a week ago with the hole-punched box that her father had made and laced for her to practice on, and he wanted to puff his chest out proudly over how fast she had learned.

When Byleth had first told him she was pregnant with Isolde, it had not been the best conversation, probably because it was rather one-sided. He had come home from work, dropping his jacket on the couch and loosening his tie as he pressed the answering machine for messages.

"Hey Dad, it's me." Byleth greeted over the machine. "I'm calling you to remind you that Dedue’s and Mercedes' restaurant is having their soft opening at Arianrhod tomorrow evening and you're expected to come. Wear something nice! Oh, and I'm pregnant. I'll see you tomorrow!"

She had been living with Sylvain in Béthune for well over a year, she was a college graduate and had a pretty good job at the public school. Still, the pair of them were not married, and he was well aware procreation had not been on her list of things to do in the near future.

For a few days, he had decided Sylvain Gautier was a man marked for dead, and would probably follow through with it, if Sitri would let him drive for those first few weeks. It had all worked out in the end, though, and Jeralt could no longer see the walls of his office anymore, covered as they are with pictures of Isolde.

Byleth reappeared in the kitchen, buttoning up her heavy coat before holding one out to the little redhead girl.

"But I don’t want to wear a coat!" Isolde immediately protested, crossing her arms disagreeably over her chest and looking amusingly like his daughter at her age.

"It's cold outside, Isolde." Byleth replied. “You’ll catch a cold and won’t be able to be flower girl anymore.”

“No!” The youngest was emphatic on her response and took the coat from her mother’s hand.

Jeralt smiled as he watched their conversation. When Byleth had finally won over the little girl and they were all headed to Sylvain's car, Isolde, ever the little speed-demon, running ahead of them, the woman wrapped an arm around her dad's shoulders.

"Excited to find that perfect tux?" She asked him, teasing.

"Oh, I am." He assured. "Are you? Because I do not know if you'll able to handle your old man in a tux. It's Eisner, Jeralt Eisner."

She rolled her eyes.

"Use that line on mom." Byleth told him. "She might just finally ask for that divorce."

Jeralt only pressed a kiss into her hair.

*_*_*_*_*

A Father’s Worst Nightmare Masterlist

Fire Emblem Masterlist

Three Houses Masterlist

#fire emblem #Sylvain Gautier #jeralt eisner

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wardenparker · 2 years

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Once Upon a Time... the Ending

Zach Wellison x plus size f!Reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Zach’s life gets turned upside down when his visit to the local library sends him all the way back to Camelot - and he meets another time traveler who has made the kingdom their home.

Rating: Mature Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: Anxiety, worry, mentions of homelessness and dealings with the police. All in all, though, this is just a hell of a lot of fluff. Summary: The time has come to leave Camelot - though Zach and Dandelion’s arrival in the future isn’t everything they expected. Notes: I am honestly overwhelmed by all the lovely responses to this silly little story. Keri and I loved every single moment of writing it and we love all of you for coming along for the ride 💖 I don’t know about you guys, but it definitely makes me want to go to a Renaissance fair!

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

With Gareth and Lynette’s wedding feast roaring in the Great Hall, it’s easy to sneak away. The minstrels have already been playing for hours and the dancing was bordering drunken hilarity, even at only mid-afternoon. Every second of the party has been bittersweet for you, though. Knowing that you cannot say goodbye to anyone but Merlin has been heartbreaking. Every moment spent with your friends has been time to soak up every possible memory. This afternoon, the plan is to take the medallion that Merlin gave you along with a single bag of the things you want to bring back to your own time. Anything more than that would be suspicious. Gwen’s christening gown, the blanket Isolde embroidered for her, and a few other precious items have been carefully packed inside, ready to make the jump back to 2021.

Zach is carrying the bag, also containing the clothes that you had come in, although he didn’t want you changing into yours since you were pregnant. His hand is firmly wrapped in yours, squeezing gently in reassurance, both for you and for himself. He had also fallen in love with Camelot. The man he knows now as a far distant relative becoming even closer after the return to the castle. His unwavering faith in Zach, along with yours, has made him realize that he has a bright future.

“Are you ready, baby?” He asks softly, knowing you are about to cry. You have had to hold back tears all day, but now, with him— you are free to let them loose.

“No.” You tell him truthfully as the tears start to fall down your cheeks. The walk to the forest isn’t long, but it seems to go on for an eternity. You have the medallion in your hand while Zach carries your things, and you squeeze his other hand tightly in yours. “I wish we didn’t have to go…”

“I know. I wish we didn’t either.” It was a far different mentality than he had when he first arrived, but he was fully willing to admit that he had fallen in love with this place. “Remember what happens. We don’t want to be here for that.” He murmurs softly. “Well, allegedly happens. I don’t want to choose sides.”

“It can’t be more than a few years away now.” The revelation of Guinevere and Lancelot’s affair is set to shake Camelot down to its very foundations, but pinning down when it will happen is impossible. “And Gwen needs to be born in America. But…” Sniffling deeply, you wipe the tears from your cheeks as you focus on the tree line ahead of you. “But I’ll miss it so much.”

“I know you will.” Zach leans over and kisses your hair. “We will make our own home our Camelot.” He promises.

“I know.” Your voice is soft, barely a voice at all, but it’s enough for him to hear. “I know I’ll love our family and our life. I just…I love this life, too. And I know you do.”

“Being here has given me back my life.” Zach is emotional too, his own eyes filling with tears. “I was hopeless before, but now…” he chokes up and squeezes your hand again. “I have m-more than I ever dreamed.”

“You deserve the world, baby.” Leaning in your him as you walk, you lift his hand to your lips and press a kiss to his skin. “We needed this place to find ourselves again. The trick will be never to lose it again.”

“We won’t.” Of that, Zach is certain. “Not when we have each other.” He pauses when the two of you are deep enough in the woods and looks around. “Here is as good a place as any.” He whispers softly.

“O-okay.” You nod resignedly and hold up the medallion. Its chain it long enough to wind around your wrist and Zach puts his hand on top of it the way Merlin showed him. Supposedly, when you both touch your thumbs to the engravings on either side of the disc, it will activate - throwing you forward in time. “I love you, baby. See you in fifteen-hundred and twenty-three years.”

"I lo—" He doesn't even get to finish the words before his body, his entire being it hurtled though time and space in the blink of an eye. His head jerks up, eyes wide and all he sees are table and books around. Fuck. He scrambles out of the chair he was sitting in, and he would believe that he had dreamed, fallen asleep and made up the entire thing. Except he was not dressed in his normal jeans and a t-shirt nor was his ever-present bag containing all of his worldly possession nearby. Nothing except the small satchel he nearly trips over in his panic. "Baby?" He looks around, expecting to see you next to him. You had been right there. "Baby where are you?"

“Shhhh!” The harsh admonishment comes from around the corner, a few seconds before the corresponding head appears to find out what all the ruckus is. The young man dressed head-to-toe in medieval costume barely raises the new librarian’s eyebrow. She, like most of LA, used to be an actor. People in costumes are everywhere. “Quiet, please.” She insists, giving him a cross stare.

"What— what day is it?" He begs, eyes still searching you out. He needs to know when he is. If Merlin had somehow sent him back before he was at the library reading the book. "What day is it?!" He demands again when the woman just stares at him.

“Thursday.” She crosses her arms, guarding herself against this clearly agitated man who is twice her size. “August 19th.”

He raises his hands slightly, showing her that he means you no harm. "August 19th, 2021?" He needs to make sure. When she nods, he looks around. "Is there a woman here - dressed like me?" He lifts his voice and calls your name out over the library.

“Shhh!” Her hiss is by no means quiet. “I haven’t seen anyone like you since the last time I went to a ren faire. Now please be quiet or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“Mara?” A softer, older voice sounds from around the same corner. “Everything okay back there?”

There is a moment where he thinks he's about to hyperventilate. He was supposed to be with you. You were supposed to be here together. Not be separated. Stumbling back, he nearly falls over the bag again, holding everything from Camelot the two of you had brought and he snatches it up. "I— this wrong, she should be here! I don't— I don't know where— where she—" Doubling over he starts to panic. You are pregnant and he has no idea where you are. "Shit."

“Zach!” Over the small spectacles perched on her long face, the head fiction librarian looks like she might about pass out at the sight of the long-since missing former Marine. “That is you? Isn’t it?”

He looks up and a flood of relief washes over him. A familiar face. "Ms. York!" Her presence is like a life line. "You're here! Yes, I— I'm here, I'm back." He rushes out and starts to move past the librarian named Mara to the older woman. Someone who has always been kind to him. "I need your help." He begs her softly.

“Of course, dear.” The small smile on her face is the only emotion she betrays, putting one hand around his shoulders. “Let’s go to my office and we can talk, hmm? From the look of it I’d say you have quite the story to tell.”

He nods and walks through the library with her, fully aware that there are multiple sets of eyes on him. Instead of shying away like he would have when he was last here, his back is straight and tall as he holds onto the bag with your belongings inside.

The small office is dominated by a messy desk, ergonomic desk chair, and large bookcase. Ms. York gestures to the spare chair in the other side of her desk and settles down, somehow deftly producing a package of shortbread without ever opening a desk drawer. She sets it out on the desk between them without comment before smiling again - an enigmatic little thing. “What can I do for you, dear?”

Zach leans forward and stares at her with earnest eyes. Eyes that he now recognizes as easily as yours. "I need you to help me find my wife, since you are the descendant of Merlin."

******

The only thing you’re aware of besides the cold and damp darkness is your own screaming until the air is knocked out of your lungs when you land on something hard and soft all at same time. One arm guards your stomach while the other is thrown over your face until you’re sure you’re not moving anymore, and you dare to open your squeezed-shut eyes. Your old apartment looks mostly the same - framed art prints on the walls and mismatched furniture strewn haphazardly around the living room as you take in the scene around you. There are things that are different, like the plants on the windowsills, but not much. “Zach?” Where is he? He’s supposed to be here. “Zach??”

"What the fuck?" Carly steps out of the kitchen and her mouth drops open in shock. "Where— where the fuck have you been?" She asks you, rushing over to the sofa you are laying on like you never left. "You— we thought you were like kidnapped or something!"

“Carly!” It takes a little extra effort to sit up, but you manage it enough to throw your arms around your old roommate’s shoulders in a tight hug. “It’s such a fucking long story, honey, you wouldn’t even believe.” Your eyes are traveling past her, though, darting around the room. “You haven’t seen a guy dressed like a medieval movie extra, have you? A little under six foot, curly brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, complete dream boat?”

“What? No?” She hugs you back and then pulls away. “Is that where the fuck you’ve been? Traveling with a RenFest troupe?”

“Um…” You swallow, blinking back scared tears. He was supposed to be with you. “Yeah, uh, yeah. I joined a renaissance faire. Very last minute.” Sure, let’s go with that. “Listen, Carly, I’m really, really sorry that I took off like that, but it wasn’t planned. You didn’t happen to chuck my stuff in the basement or anything, did you?” You wouldn’t blame her if she had thrown everything out, but you’re hoping Carly’s kind heart was big enough to just store the stuff somewhere and forget about it. As soon as you figure out if you have any worldly possessions left, you’re headed straight for the library. That has to be where Zach is if he didn’t land here with you.

Carly huffs and crosses her arms over her chest and pouts at you. "You could have called; I would have understood." She grumbles at you. "I didn't touch anything." She admits softly. "Your room is just like you left it in case—" Her lips trembles slightly. "In case the police came and told me they found your body."

“Oh my god…” You slump slightly - as much as you can with your belly as it is - and scrub your hands down your face. “I’m so, so sorry, Carls. Seriously. There was absolutely no way for me to call or get in touch, I promise I didn’t just ghost for no reason.” Shifting your weight, you push to your feet and stretch. Apparently, time travel makes you feel like you’re all crunched up until you have a good stretch. “I promise I will come back and explain as much as I can, but I need to go find my husband.” You don’t miss the way her eyes widen and her jaw drops, but there’s no time to waste. “What day is it, honey? What’s the date?”

She sputters and shakes her head. "I— uh, it's August 19th." She tells you. "Did you say husband?" Her eyes drift down to your stomach. "Holy shit, you're pregnant!"

“Yeah. Uh…yes to both, I mean.” You shake your head a little as you soothe one hand over your belly. Apparently time travel also makes you nauseous. Or maybe that’s just Gwen. “Listen, I promise I will come back in a little bit, but I need to go find him.”

She stares at you for a moment before she shakes her head. "You— you'll need to take my car." She tells you, walking over to her purse. "Your car— I didn't renew the registration on it."

“It’s been almost two years. I wouldn’t expect you to.” The fact that your room is intact is kind of a miracle, but you take Carly’s keys gratefully. “I promise you; I will be back tonight.”

"You better be." She warns, still unable to believe that you are here. "Your purse!" She tells you as open the door. "You need your license. It's still valid at least."

“Purse. Right.” It’s been so long since you’ve carried one that you had completely forgotten. Heading back to your room is awkward. Like walking through a hazy dream. The little closet-sized space barely big enough for your bed and few other pieces of furniture. Pulling open the first drawer of your storage bed, you find your regular purse exactly as you left it, right down to the crumpled receipts and half-empty tin of Altoids. “I owe you everything.” You tell Carly honestly when you re-emerge. The big cardboard box of mail on your bed can be gone through later, but for now there’s still cash sitting in your wallet and your old cell phone still has a little battery left even though you’re sure it’s not good for anything more without a service plan. “Thank you.”

Carly shrugs. "I kept hoping that you would show back up." She tells you. "And you have."

You give her another tight hug before flying out the door, not even bothering to change your clothes because that would just be lost time. If you panicked at not seeing Zach when you landed, he must be freaking right the hell out.

The Baldwin Park branch of the LA public library is across the city and traffic is definitely one thing you have not missed about modern life. Zach mentioned which library he went to exactly once and you’re praying it was the one he was going to when he disappeared.

******

Zach paces while Ms. York goes through the news articles about your disappearance, honestly a little pissed off that there's not a lot more information beyond the initial report of a women being reported missing by her roommates. Cursing himself for not making you write your address down or something he feels bile rising in his throat at the mere idea that maybe you had gone back to the time you disappeared and didn't remember him. Or Merlin's magic had messed up.

This library is a goddamn maze, or maybe it’s just that you’re a frantic mess trying to navigate a place you’ve never been before with only one goal on your mind. “Shit, shit, shit,” you keep muttering to yourself as you hunt through the stacks, trying to figure out where the mythology section is.

“May I help you?” The same librarian who had hissed at Zach rolls her eyes when she sees your dress. “You must be the one he was yelling for.” She states, crossing her arms. “Do not start yelling in here too.”

The way she reacts instantly convinces you that this sour looking woman has seen Zach and you nearly pounce across the counter at her. “Point the way and I promise not to yell.”

Huffing, she rolls her eyes at you and motions you around the counter. “He’s in Ms. York’s office so he didn’t disturb other patrons.”

You practically leap over the desk to follow her, ready to run the diminutive woman over in order to get to Zach. Down a short hallway and around the corner, you skid to a stop in front of a generic-looking door as the small woman raps her knuckles twice on the hollow wood.

Zach turns, halfway expecting the police to come through the door, but it’s Mara. “Someone just came in too.” She tells Ms. York, looking over at Zach. “I think she’s looking for him.”

“She?” Zach’s knees threaten to buckle under him, and he prays it’s you.

Practically pushing into the room, it takes no more than a split-second for your eyes to find Zach to the right of the doorway. “Oh, thank god!” You breathe in relief, practically flinging your arms around his neck the second you lay eyes on him.

“Baby!” It takes everything in him not to crush you against him, still ever mindful of the baby. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? How is the baby?” He rushes the questions out quickly as if you were on a timer, his hands running up and down your back and sides before he pushes back to touch your stomach.

“We’re okay.” Both of your hands cup his cheeks, thumbs running the length of his jaw as if to make sure he’s really there. “A bit of nausea, a little creaky. Are you okay?”

“I’m good now.” He feels like he’s taking his first breath since returning. “I—I panicked when you weren’t with me. And I didn’t have your address.” He murmurs, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours while Mara looks on in confusion while Ms. York wears a secretive smile on her face.

“I landed in my old apartment.” If you could just tuck into his arms and stay there, you would live there happily for the rest of your days. “I’m just glad I remembered what branch of the library you used to come to.”

“Mara, you can leave.” Ms. York’s voice comes out firm and Zach hears the office door close but all he can think about is you.

“My stuff is still at my apartment.” You’re focused entirely on Zach, letting the rest of the world fade away at the edges. “It’s not much, we can get my bank card reactivated and rent a U-Haul and be on the road in a few days max.”

“I – that’s good.” He tells you with a rueful smile.” Cause I’m sure I don’t have anything.”

Ms. York clears her throat gently and rises from her chair to dig into the corner of her office. “I wasn’t sure what happened,” she explains, producing Zach’s duffel from the nook beside one of the bookcases. “I didn’t touch a thing, but I wanted to make sure it was safe if you came back.”

He knows she hadn’t technically acknowledged that she is Merlin’s descendant, but in this moment, he could kiss her. “Thank you, thank you.” His DD2-14, birth certificate and expired passport was in that bag. Along with something buried at the bottom that meant the world to him. Something he had never been able to get rid of despite everything.

The older woman smiles, handing over the bag and settling down in her chair again. “The two of you have another great journey ahead. It was my honor to provide help here, but I will not be with you in Maine to continue to keep watch.” After everything you’ve been through, she sees no harm in a little honesty. After all, Zach has always explicitly stated that he knows who she is - so there is no need to be coy.

Zach turn his head towards the older woman, misty-eyed with relief that you are here and gratitude for the kindness the librarian had shown him. “Thank you.” He murmurs softly. “Arthur’s legacy will continue on. We will make sure of it.”

“I have no doubt.” The tools at her disposal have allowed her and her many ancestors before her to prepare for each step the Pendragon line has taken, and each step to come. Her grandson is already living a full life in Kennebunkport, ready to help support the king’s line in any way necessary. “You are welcome to use my office as you plan your next steps, but I’m afraid I should return to work.” The smile she offers the two of you is soft and genuine. “I’m very happy to see you both well.”

Zach moves away from you for a moment. Approaching the older lady and reaching out to pull her into his arms for a grateful hug. Something that months ago, he would not have been able to do. “Thank you. You kept me going on some of my worst days.” He admits softly. “You will always be remembered.”

“It has been a pleasure to know you.” She can say that with the utmost sincerity. “And I know that your next steps will be exciting ones.” Hugging Zach briefly once more, the librarian reaches to gently squeeze your arm as she walks past the two of you and exits her own office.

Turning back to you, he cradles your jaw lovingly and doesn't hesitate to give you a kiss. Needing to reaffirm for himself that you are here and more importantly, nothing has changed between you during your journey through time. "I love you." He whispers against your lips.

“I love you, too.” Everything about being back in modern times feels completely surreal and being in Zach’s arms again is grounding in a way you truly need right now.

"How— how did you get here?" He asks, unwilling to let you go again for another minute. As if he was afraid you might be snatched from him again.

“My old roommate lent me her car. My license is still valid.” Your face is buried in his chest, but you know he can hear you just fine. “She…she left my room intact. For the police…”

"Oh baby." He smooths back your hair and sighs, slightly grateful for the idea of you having a conscious roommate. "At least you have a place to stay tonight." He tells you practically.

“We.” Tipping your chin back, you frown at him animatedly. “We have a place to stay. I promised you that you would never have to be alone again, and I meant it.”

"I can't ask your roommate to accept some strange man into her home." He shakes his head quickly. "I don't want to make her uneasy."

“I already said you’re my husband, and I’m obviously pregnant.” If he thinks there is a single chance in hell that you’re not taking him home with you, then he obviously doesn’t know you as well as he thinks he does. “If they’re not okay with it, then we’ll just stay at a hotel for a couple of nights. A quick stop at the bank on the way back to get my debit card reactivated and we’re all set.”

He gives you a slightly amused look, sliding his eyes down your body at your outfit. "We might need to see if there is something else you can wear, sweetheart."

“I love my dresses.” You pout playfully, trying to get him to smile. “We both need to do some shopping. All the more reason to get my card reactivated again. And tonight we can eat whatever take out you’ve been craving most while we go through the giant box of mail Carly left on my bed. The letters from my godmother’s lawyers about the inheritance should be in there somewhere.” Having dealt with your grief while you were away, you can attempt to focus on the business end of everything now. Although you still don’t know how she died.

"Whatever you and the baby want." Zach inputs quickly. "You two are my top priority." He turns and digs into the bag where his clothes he had traveled to Camelot was. Pulling out the old wallet he had and opening it. "I've got like 25 dollars."

“I have more.” It’s not a competition, but you need him to know that he doesn’t have to worry. “There’s a used clothing store near the apartment that makes a point of having plus sized stuff and we can get some new-to-us clothes without breaking the bank.” You lean in to press a soft kiss to his lips, letting your fingers curl into his hair the way you know he loves. “Carly guessed from the dress that I had joined a Ren Fest and I just kind of said yes because I was so focused on finding you. So…I guess that’s the story we’ll go with?”

"Well, she might want you committed to a mental facility if we tell here we traveled back to live in King Arthur's court." Zach is grinning but he's also serious. The story you have for where you are is fantastic and no one would believe it. "Did you have the medallion?" He asks, knowing he didn't have it on him when he came to.

“Right here.” You produce the disc from the deep pocket of your dress to show to him before tucking it safely away again. “You have our bag?” It had been in his hand, so you had assumed it went with him like the medallion came with you.

"It's right there." He points towards a chair where he had set it. "Do you want to get out of here and go back to your roommates - well, your place?"

“My place is above a carpenter’s workshop in Wales.” You sigh slightly and lean into him once more to claim a hug. As long as he’s right beside you, it doesn’t seem quite as daunting. “We need to go to the bank and get some clothes. Then we’ll go back to the apartment and start figuring things out. Does that sound like a plan?”

"Wherever you want to go, I will follow you." Zach promises. If you wanted to go to the Santa Monica Pier he would be up for it. Anywhere you wanted to go, whatever you wanted to do. As long as you wanted him to be there, he would be.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks

Once…: @raisonppascxl @skvatnavle @luminescentlily @lowlights @allthe-ships @ikinmahlen @girlwholoveswords

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #zach wellison #Zach Wellison x reader #Zach Wellison x you #Zach Wellison x female reader #plus size reader #Brothers and Sisters #time travel au #Camelot #celebration fic #idiots in love #all good things must come to an end

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sassyhobbits · 3 years

Note

16. "I can't believe you're making snow angels at a time like this!"

and here we have the ONS christmas special!! my last xmas fic this season and i hope you all enjoy! have a great holidays everyone!! <3

~~~

Aelin Galathynius loved Yulemas.

She loved the smells, the sights, the foods. She relished in spending time with her closest family and friends, giving them gifts she knew would make their faces light up. She loved laying by the fire and reminiscing.

This was Aelin's third Yulemas with Rowan. She fell more in love with her husband everyday, and always enjoyed spending the holiday with him. The only thing that she could have wished for this year was that their daughter had decided to join them.

Aelin was heavily pregnant. Their daughter was about a week late and Aelin wanted her out, out, out already. It wasn’t only that her feet were always swollen or her back ached constantly, but also that Rowan had become terribly overbearing. There wasn't a single thing Aelin tried to do that her husband didn't attempt to do for her before she could. At the beginning of her pregnancy, she enjoyed it. She liked when Rowan would grab the remote or get out of bed to fetch her slippers if she asked. But by now, it was beginning to lose its charm.

It was Yulemas eve. The palace was filled with their friends and family. They had even invited some of Rowan’s cousins to Orynth. Arlene and Isolde were excited to enjoy their first northern Yulemas.

They had all spent a few hours lounging in the parlor, indulging in wine and other spiced holiday drinks. Aelin sipped on a hot chocolate, cuddled into Rowan’s side, his hand a steady weight on her belly. It had all been wonderful, but after a while Aelin began to feel a bit warm with the fire and the bodies stuffing the cozy parlor

"Hey, Ro?" she whispered to her husband.

"What is it, Fireheart?"

"Will you take a walk with me?"

He smiled and nodded. "I'd love to."

He helped her off the couch, grabbing her boots and her coat and helping her slip them on. No one noticed when they ducked out of the parlor, walking down the halls towards the entrance to the gardens.

They had become a wintry wonderland in the recent days, covered in a fresh blanket of soft snow. The night was silent, the sky clear and beautiful. Aelin held Rowan’s arm tightly as they meandered slowly over the snowy path.

Suddenly, Aelin hissed in discomfort, placing a hand over her huge stomach as their baby girl fussed.

“Is everything alright?” Rowan asked, brows knitted in concern.

“Fine,” Aelin assured him, not wanting him to go full mother hen mode. “She’s just making herself comfortable, apparently.”

Her husband sighed heavily. “It seems she likes it in there.”

“Well, it’s cold as hell out here so I don’t blame her.”

Rowan released a bark of laughter. “I was hoping she’d be with us by now.”

“Me too.” Aelin pouted down at her belly. “I had some adorable little Yulemas outfits for her.”

“I know you did, love.”

They continued their trek through the gardens, admiring the lights that had been strung up and other holiday decorations. Aelin always enjoyed decorating the palace. It was one of her favorite parts of the season.

The princess was just about to suggest they go back inside when she felt something strange. A sensation she had never endured before; a little pop followed by something decidedly wet between her legs. Aelin didn't have to be a rocket scientist to realize what, exactly, that feeling was.

"Rowan?" she rasped, tightening her grip on her husband's arm.

"Hm?"

"My water just broke."

"Your water just what-?!"

Rowan’s head whipped towards her, eyes wide in shock. In his bewilderment, her normally graceful husband wasn't watching where he was going, stepping on a slick piece of eyes. His feet flew out from under him, tumbling back into a fresh bank of snow.

Despite herself, Aelin released a laugh. Rowan leaned his head upwards, flakes scattered in his slicer hair, arms spread on either side of him like a star.

“I can’t believe you’re making snow angels at a time like this!” the princess cried playfully. “We’re having a baby!”

Rowan blinked once, a slow smile spreading on his lips. “We’re having a baby,” he repeated in a whisper. “We’re having our baby!”

Aelin could only grin.

…

It didn’t take long to head back inside and gather the things they needed to make the trip to the hospital. Aelin had thought Rowan was being ridiculous earlier, but it was nothing compared to his actions now. He was everywhere at once, not allowing her to pick up anything or even open a door for herself. Yet, Aelin was too nervous to even really scold him about it.

She and Rowan were already getting into a car in the garage by the time they let their other friends and family know what was happening. Before she knew it, they were on the way to the hospital.

Aelin knew that she likely still had a fair share of time before things would get serious, but her mother had faced many complications when giving birth to her. Aelin’s entire family had agreed to play it safe.

There was a private, secure suite waiting for Aelin by the time they pulled up to the hospital. She was only just starting to feel the first of her contractions when she slipped into the shapeless hospital gown.

Aelin spent a few hours speaking with nurses and doctors, getting poked and prodded and questioned. She spoke with her friends and family over the phone, convinced Rowan to read to her even though her husband seemed much more nervous than she did.

As the night wore on, Aelin’s contractions grew stronger and more frequent. A little after one in the morning, the doctor came in and informed her that it was time to start pushing. It was then that Aelin felt those first twinges of fear.

“Rowan?” Aelin squeaked, looking to her husband who was seated beside her.

He reached out, brushing a strand of her hair from her sweaty forehead. “What is it, Fireheart?”

“I’m scared.”

His lips tightened a fraction of an inch, grabbing her hand and giving it a firm squeeze. She could see in his eyes that he was frightened too, but he would be strong. Strong for both of them, and the little girl they were waiting to meet. He leaned close and kissed her flushed forehead.

“I’ll be here every step of the way, Aelin. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

…

The birthing process wasn’t easy, though no one was expecting it to be. Aelin felt as though she was being torn in two, her throat raw from screaming in pain. Even through the haze of the agony, she could tell that Rowan was beyond stressed and seeing her like this was likely shaving years off his life. It was a good thing his hair was already silver, because this experience probably would have turned his hair gray anyway.

Still, he was nothing but supportive: whispering words of encouragement, letting her grip his hand as tightly as she needed, dabbing her sweaty forehead with a cool cloth.

It was the wee hours of Yulemas morning, the sky turning a buttery yellow as the sun rose above the jagged peaks of the Staghorns. Aelin was beyond exhausted. She had been pushing and screaming for hours. All she wanted to do was sleep.

A ragged cry tore from her throat before slumping back on to her pile of pillows, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I’m so tired,” she sobbed, voice hoarse and crackling. “Ro, I’m so tired.”

“I know you are, love. You’re doing so good. You’re almost there.”

“I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Yes you can, Aelin.” Rowan squeezed her hand tightly. “You’re the strongest person I know. Just a little bit longer. I know you can do it.”

“He’s right, princess,” the doctor said from his position between her legs. “Your daughter’s nearly here. Just one more big push. Can you do that for me?”

Aelin clenched her jaw and nodded. She had survived much worse than this. She could do anything. The princess sucked down one last deep, bracing breath, preparing herself before giving a mighty push.

Aelin wailed as she put everything she had in her into this last push, sure she must have been breaking the bones in Rowan’s hand with how hard she was gripping it.

And, where one cry ended, another began.

A shrill shriek that did not come from Aelin filled the air just as her own voice failed her. Her strength left her body, collapsing against the pillows just as she saw the doctor hand a screaming, bloody, wiggling thing to the nurse.

Her daughter. That was her daughter.

Aelin forced herself to sit up straighter as the nurses carried a bundle of pink blankets towards her before carefully placing it into her arms.

The tears wouldn’t stop flowing as Aelin held her daughter in her arms for the first time. Her face was red, and her little face was pinched up as she cried, but she was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

“Hi,” Aelin rasped, giving another tiny sob. “Hello. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Rowan was a warm presence at her side, looking down at his daughter in wonder. “She’s beautiful. She’s perfect.”

“I’m so in love already it doesn’t feel possible.”

The doctor smiled at the little family before them. “Have you picked out a name for the little princess yet?”

Aelin nodded, tracing the shape of her daughter’s nose. “Eliora. Her name is Eliora.”

The doctors and nurses took a few steps back, giving them a bit of privacy as they grew acquainted with one another.

“Happy Yulemas, Eliora,” Rowan whispered to the newborn.

“It is Yulemas, isn’t it?” Aelin asked. She had lost track of time during the birthing process. “It looks like we’re gonna have to wait to do presents.”

“No offence, Fireheart, but I don’t think you can out do yourself now.” He ran his fingers over Eliora’s silvery-blonde hair. “This is the best Yulemas gift I’ve ever could have asked for. Thank you. I love you. I love you both so much.”

Aelin looked up, beaming and kissing Rowan quickly, scooting over so he could sit beside her on the hospital bed. He perched himself on the corner, tucking Aelin under his arm and holding both her and their daughter close.

Now Aelin Galathynius had another reason to love Yulemas.

#ONE NIGHT STANDARDS #rowaelin #my writing

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sketchy-fey · 4 days

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i want to go on record to say i absolutely fucking hate binding the tabs on stays

#I've done it but nobody else will ever see it cos it's appaling #not actually art #isolde's evening gown

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hasbedidoneanythingbad · 3 years

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Dinadan | Ruler

Dinadan - Ruler Dinadan manifested in this class due to not having a wish for the grail. He is the only knight other than the king themself to manifest under the Ruler class. Even when alive, he had no wish, he was just content with what he had. He was even content in his dying moments when he was held so closely in Lancelot’s arms.

Dinadan never cared for fighting or for courtly love. No one is sure why he became a knight, he’s not even sure why either.

Appearance:

Dinadan is a knight of shorter stature, about the height of Sir Mordred. He’s got brown hair that reaches his shoulders and he’s got blue eyes. He also has a little bit of stubble but it’s very faint.

In his first stage, he wears a gown befitting the queen of Camelot herself. He wears this gown due to the part of Arthurian where Lancelot beat him in combat in a dress and then forced him into one, and then paraded around Camelot together in said dresses.

In his other stages, he switches out the gown for a proper suit of armor. He carries a lyre on his back in all of the stages, he doesnt use it during battle, he just prefers to keep it n him

Personality:

Dinadan is known as the ‘class clown’ out of the knights. He was constantly seen cracking jokes and making light of even the most darkest of situations. His relatively friendly nature and carefree nature was what got him killed, for merely being friends with another knight who was related to the man who killed Mordred and Agravain’s father(King Lot).

When it comes to his relationship with his master, he easily trusts them. This is evident in his bond lines where he openly talks about his life. He even tells them straight out that he’s not a very good knight in his later bonds

Voice lines:

Upon being summoned:

“Nice to meet you master! The name is Dinadan, ruler class. I hope I don’t disappoint!”

Bond Level 1:

“Hey master, I ought to tell you. I aint really good when it comes to fighting, not really my thing. But I’ll try my best!”

Bond Level 2:

“Hey master, I should write you a song sometime! Oh yeah I’ve written a couple songs! Like once I wrote one about King Mark, Sir Tristan’s uncle. He didnt like it very much..”

Bond Level 3:

“I dont see how you can be so interested in me. I’m not very interesting or as special as your other servants. I’m just some measly little knight that clings to his lyre.”

Bond Level 4:

“You know you’d like Isolde...for some reason you remind me of her. I dunno why! Maybe it’s because you’re so nice to me. And you dont find me annoying like some of the other knights. So thank you for being nice to me!”

Bond Level 5:

“Hey master I wrote you that song! Here let me play it for you...hey no its not like the one I wrote for Mark. This is a ballad about your victories! Your heroic deeds!”

Dialogue about Tristan:

“Sir Tristan! It’s been such a long time since I saw you! You look handsome as ever..Hey dont look so sad my friend. It really is me..I won’t leave you this time.”

Dialogue about Mordred:

“Master please shield me from Mordred! Now isnt the time to ask questions! Please protect me!”

Dialogue about Lancelot(saber):

“Lance my friend! It’s good to see you! Thank you for being there for me in my last moments and for taking me to Camelot...Anyways! We should spar sometime! Maybe this time, I can put you in a dress and parade you around!”

Dialogue about Merlin:

“Up to no good I see. Hey I want in, I’m not a snitch. Oh we’re gonna mess with the doctor? Nice! Lets do it!”

After finishing the Camelot singularity:

“I wish I had lived long enough to stop the knights with Bedi..but alas, I did not… I dont regret many things but I regret that.”

Likes:

“Oh I like to play music and crack jokes! And to be honest, I really like wearing dresses. Lancelot made me realize that...I’ll tell you the tale some other time.”

Dislikes:

“Oh I dont really care for fighting. So I guess that?”

About the grail:

“I’d advise you not mess with that. I don’t think it’d be wise. No I don’t want it. I dont have any use for it.”

During an Event:

“Is that a party? Lets go master!”

Your Birthday:

“Oh it’s your birthday! Well happy birthday! Lets get some sweets and I’ll play you a song, whatever you want!”

#Sir Dinadan #dinadan tag #fanservant #fgo #oc

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unravellingsilencehq · 1 year

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“Oh, Merlin, tell me, does THE CELEBRITY get what she deserves?” She is NEUTRAL & OPEN to finding out.“

— she walks through the world as ;

name → andressa parkinson pronouns → she/her identification → cis-female year of birth → september 1955 - september 1956 face claim → camilla mendez blood status → pure-blood sexual orientation → up to applicant occupation → owner of the grave affair in knockturn alley, model for witch weekly future information → aunt of pansy parkinson

— she is best described as ;

The textbook definition of GLAMOUR & INTELLIGENCE, she is the pale FEATHER DRESS or the GLITTERING SEQUIN GOWN that passes you at a PARTY, with a GRACIOUS SMILE and POLITE GLOVED HAND. She is the scent of SPARKLING CHAMPAGNE & and the JOYOUS LAUGH echoed when the bottle is popped. She is sheer CELEBRITY, UNASSUMING, POLISHED & WATCHING those who WATCH her CLOSELY.

— her story starts with ;

tw: death

Raised in the knowledge the best people in life may be for free but everything else is paid for in cold hard galleons, Andressa Parkinson is rich beyond all belief and it’s hard not to notice. The eldest of twins, Andressa and her brother CRISTIANO PARKINSON [sibling] are always the first to make a best dressed list and at any party or trip to the bar it’s clear that when it comes to them money is no object. Andressa assumed creative control of her relationship with her brother at an early age, politely instructing him he must learn to lead her in a waltz and always be impeccably dressed for unsuspecting callers. The two had always felt much older than children their age, an inseparable pair of adults already readied for society before they’d even began at Hogwarts. The Parkinson family prided themselves on their clean and traceable bloodline which was detailed on the walls of their private family room, privy only to members of the Parkinson bloodline and those who were lucky enough to marry into it. Despite not being the oldest family in WIzarding Britain, they prided themselves on being the most culturally educated as well as the wealthiest and were known for their impeccable balls that risked scandal and ruin if you were not provided with an invitation.

Her parents provided an interesting model for herself and her brother. Though from the old world they were decidedly modern in their approach to being a leading societal family Antonia Parkinson was careful to invite those outside of her select social circle to her gatherings, including up and coming pure-blood families like the Siminovas to her balls, which raised eyebrows from the likes of DRUELLA BLACK [acquaintance]. Antonia knew that in a circle as small as The Sacred Twenty-Eight fresh blood was the best way to survive and that above all else there was nothing worse than irrelevancy and inviting outsiders to worship you was the best way of ensuring that. As such Andressa knew not to focus on befriending simply the Black sisters but those who also had political reach and cultural pull in their society. Sorted into Slytherin she was in the prime position to make such friends and quickly established a friendship with ISOLDE CROUCH [close friend] whose family had great political influence on her father’s side and half-blood witch LUCILLE JONES [best friend] who also came from an impressive family within the political sphere.

Andressa was determined to craft the perfect group of friends to surround herself with. Lucille’s twin sister FLORENCE JONES [close friend] was swiftly collected and BERTHA JORKINS [close friend] was added due to her fondness for rumours that kept Andressa informed. A member of Slug Club and head girl, Andressa had established herself as the reigning queen of Hogwarts, not just in Slytherin and felt decidedly unshakable until NARCISSA BLACK [rival] came calling for her crown. A slightly younger student, Andressa was fond of her older sister ANDROMEDA BLACK [friend], but found Narcissa to be nothing like her. Cold, unpredictable and calculated Andressa found it a full time occupation trying to manage her moves as well as those made by yet another rival GENEVIEVE AVERY [rival] who desperately vied for her attention. Even Andressa’s brother was not off limits and when Cristanio began dating Genevieve just to make her nervous for her poor brother’s heart and ensure Genevieve’s jealousy, Andressa realised she had her work cut out for her in commanding the social scene but was firm it would not drive a wedge between her and Cristiano.

Careful not to be outdone, Andressa knew that there was one real prize both Narcissa and Genevieve wanted above all. The prince of The Sacred Twenty-Eight, LUCIUS MALFOY [partner]. Knowing she was far more age appropriate and in a much better position to gain his favour, Andressa carefully befriended CORDELIA DAVIS [former close friend] and NATALIA SIMINOVA [close friend] in order to get closer to him. But then fate threw Andressa a curve ball. The passing of Andressa’s mother was both the making and breaking of the young witch. Though Antonia had been unwell a long time before she passed, it had still come as a shock to Andressa and Cristanio. Suddenly the social scene, her rivalry, they meant nothing to her and Andressa retreated from society to take care of her father and brother who head dealt with her passing harshly. Cristiano had always been emotionally dependent on their mother and when she died he crumbled into a shell of himself. Taking charge of her family, Andressa took it upon herself to quickly cut the marriage off between her brother and Genevieve. Her family was ruined and couldn’t pay for the contract luckily enough for Andressa, solving a problem of getting a self-serving leech out of their house.

Narcissa Black’s best friend KLAUDIE BURKE [rival] quickly arrived to pick up the pieces of her brother’s heartbreak, weaseling her way into their family home, no doubt to gain information. Andressa did not trust Klaudie, citing her as a spy in her house, no doubt spilling gossip about the fall of their great family. Andressa was forced to get chatter back on why the Parkinsons would always remain at the top. Carefully she aligned herself with the fashion industry, giving money to young and up and coming designer ZAINA PRYITES [close friend/business partner] and offering to host her debut show at Parkinson manor in place of her mother’s famed ball. Inviting everyone who was relevant from the fashion industry and the social world, to packed ballroom Andressa opened the show in a glittering white ballgown sending shockwaves amongst the audience. It was unheard of for a member of the Twenty Eight to act like such a celebrity, but Andressa remembered what her mother had said. In this new world, The Twenty-Eight were dying and she would not see herself or her family lie lifeless amongst them. Afterwards Andressa enjoyed a successful career as a fashion model and gained herself a fan she had not expected to ask for her gloved hand. Lucius Malfoy pursued Andressa ruthlessly until they were the front page of every publication in London.

Andressa was delighted. She was established in her own right, with a man she truly loved who boosted her image and was awaiting a marriage proposal any day. But not all was perfect in her world. Even with Klaudie by his side, Cristiano spent most evenings drinking and dancing till he dropped. On a whim, Andressa bought a failing bar in Knockturn Alley, opening up The Grave Affair as the newest up and coming spot for socialites, with her brother as her bar manager at the helm. Though it was arguably not the best idea to go into the bar business with someone who likes to drink a lot, Andressa knew she needed to keep her brother occupied and was firm in her decision despite the pushback from Lucius. With her brother starting to steadily improve, Andressa is the happiest she has been in a long time, though a little voice in the back of her head is telling her not everything is as it should be. Often she catches her brother in dark corners whispering to her staff ALECTO CARROW [employee] and her brother AMYCUS CARROW [employee] and has noticed that BELLATRIX BLACK [person of interest] has become a regular visitor to Andressa’s little patch of London. With the mysterious disappearance of her star singer ROSALIE FLINT [employee] fresh on her mind, Andressa is certain something is going awry and is determined to get to the bottom of it.

— she is a LEVEL 5 WITCH & readied for war ;

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thedyingmoon · 3 years

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The Pros,... And Cons,... Of Having Viego As A Lover

~ A set of Viego Simp Loverboy Headcanons that nobody asked for.

( Should I post this? Or not? Ehh,... )

~ Hear me out, guys! I just,... have to get this idea out before I totally forget about it.

~ Based on Viego's official biography.

DISCLAIMER: Isolde will always be Viego's Queen 😊😊😊❤❤❤👑👑👑

***

PROS:

Prepare to be spoiled! This man would lavish you with gifts of all kinds. After all, he is the King, and he has the power to give you anything and everything you desire. Ask him anything, and he'll be more than happy to give it to you. Don't ask him anything, and you'll still find gifts waiting for you right at your doorstep. Gowns, expensive jewels, heck, even a horse. Viego will give you EVERYTHING. Oh, yes, he can, because he can.

His love for you is eternal, oh yes. You're all he sees, no matter what happens. Others would and will try to steal him away from you but, joke's on them! You're the only face he sees in his mind, your voice is all he hears. He is entranced by you and only you. Basically, nothing or no one else matters because all that matters to him is you.

He would always come for you whenever you need him. Just say the word and he'll be right beside you within seconds. You could always rely on Viego, and you bet he would never leave your side, no matter how hard a situation gets. After all, who or what could stop him from doing so? You could always count on him. You would always have his back, and he would protect you at all cost.

Viego is a very devoted lover. You'd almost feel guilty about this. Your heart would falter, and your eyes would gaze at something, or someone else. There would even come a time where you could accidentally betray him but, know that he would always remain loyal, and devoted to you, until your last breath. Until his last moments as a living being. Or! Maybe,...

CONS:

Viego was once a selfish young man. And now that he has you, he only cares about you and only you. He would lavish you with gifts,... to the point where his spending habits would be too much for the Kingdom's expenses. It seems he has forgotten that a King's duty is to his people, and not just to his Queen. And, honestly, his subjects would see this as a reason to view him as an unfit ruler of the nation. And may I just mention,... he's too extravagant? What would you need those new clothes for? Those new jewelry? Unless you burn them after use every single day, which you don't. And after all that, he would still give you everything. And everything is not always good, right?

Having said that, seeing only you has given his people some major headache and pain in the ass. He would become negligent of his duties, and his attention could easily be snatched away from, otherwise, more important topics if you're around. And that could be a very dangerous habit, especially for a King like him, who is actually known to not have the aptitude for leading in the first place.

You would not be able to imagine what horrors Viego would do for you should you fall ill. Or perish because of a poisoned dagger. He would deplete the entire nation's coffers just to find ways to bring you back to how you were. He would not leave any single stone unturned to make you feel better. He would not hesitate to sacrifice others' lives just to give you back yours. Just look at what happened to the Blessed Isle.

And finally, Viego is very devoted. And he is very, very obsessed with you,... to the point of madness. He would not let anything or anyone stand between you. He would slaughter anyone who would try to take you away from him. And even after his death, and his resurrection as a mad, love - driven lich King, he would ruin the entire world just to have you back. Romantic? Err,... it depends, I guess?

SOLUTIONS:

Why not tell him, oh, dear, I don't need this, this is enough, my love, and even if you don't give me anything, I'll still love you. I'm pretty sure he'll listen to your every word. Oh, hey, you're all he hears, right? And remember! He couldn't, and wouldn't dare, to refuse your requests. You could also teach him the values of thriftiness, and maybe then, his ratings as a King would go up, even by a single or half a point.

Maybe tell him to have fun with some of his friends for a change? Or tell him you want some alone time, even just for a while? Also, try to reassure him that he could always count on you, and that he doesn't have to keep his eyes on you 24/7. After all, trust is the foundation of a strong relationship, alongside faith, right? Maybe then, he'll eventually learn how to focus more on his duties as a King, and his subjects wouldn't have headaches, or pain in their asses in the first place. And after such a long day of separation, you and Viego would find it even more satisfying to be in each others' arms once again. *wink*wonk*wink*

Moderation is the key to a long life. Too much of a good thing could lead to mistakes. And mistakes often lead to destruction if not resolved in the proper manner. Yes, love is a good thing, but too much love, too much devotion, could lead to madness. And, yes, destruction. Not only to one person but to the people around him. THEN AGAIN! We won't have an epic story if it weren't for Viego's eternal simping love for you, right?

I hope you like my one and only set of Viego headcanons!😊😊😊❤❤❤

#viego #the ruined king #league of legends #viego the ruined king #headcanons #lol

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alistonjdrake · 3 years

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Part Three: The Other Rios Princess

Princess Sandra ana’Juliano Rios Born: Year 1730 after the fall of the Saints Parents: King Juliano an’Bernabé Rios & Queen Marisol ana’Alexis Barraza Spouse: Sebastian an’Johannes Harver

Historically, Princess Sandra is not a significant character. Even before the Siege of Graza and her marriage to Prince Sebastian, she was hardly a figure in court politics. She spent much of her childhood in Orrasas with her Barraza cousins or in country estates throughout Escan. We can likely count on one hand how often she saw her father before his death. Her relationship with her sister and mother even less known, certainly as it did not bother her to abandon Queen Isolde in Graza and she never visited Queen Marisol during her imprisonment.

As a child, Sandra was spoiled. Likely no more than anyone else on this list, but she really took to spoiling. In their eagerness to earn favor with her father, Sandra was doted on by many of her hosts when she would stay in their homes. She was constantly showered in expensive gifts in the form of clothing, jewelry, horses.

At times when she was in Orrasas, she would spend a lot of time with her mother Queen Marisol. They were considerably close when Sandra was a child. If Isolde belonged to King Juliano, Sandra was Queen Marisol’s child. They delighted in throwing famous tea parties, briefly making Orrasas a competitor for the center of high society Escana to meet with with one another (not a hard thing to do since, before King Frederick, Graza was not nearly as busy and was often considered an inconvenience).

Sandra was not very mindful of her education. Her tutors would say she was easily distracted. An eager student but a hard one to get to focus. Sandra easily jumped from one hobby to another. She took up painting, then poetry, then horse-riding, then music. She never stuck to anything for very long and she was never especially talented either. But what Sandra lacked in skill she more than made up for with enthusiasm and confidence.

She was fifteen when her father died and very little seemed to change in her life, even after Queen Isolde took up arms against King Frederick. Just as she had before, Sandra spent very little time in Graza. In fact, it’s said she even remarked that she was not aware there was not a conflict until a year later as she’d spent time in one of her cottages near the Kellish border.

She was eighteen when she married Prince Sebastian. Sandra tried to avoid her wedding entirely. She was outspoken about her distaste for the “Tadrune Invaders” and when envoys arrived at the country estate she resided during the Siege of Graza, she tried to bribe them. She managed to slip away from the carriage three times before eventually being caught.

Sandra and Prince Sebastian were married in Graza Palace’s chapel, a considerably smaller service than the one afforded to their other siblings and much fewer guests. Their wedding was attended by the princess’ ladies-in-waiting, a few Oskyan guards, and some of King Juliano’s old advisers just so they could stand witness to the proceedings.

They had no wedding party so not to distract from the events of King Frederick and Queen Isolde’s union (as well as to not be offensively extravagant as Graza still needed to rebuild and recover from the siege), all things that angered Sandra. Although not thrilled about the marriage, a boring wedding bothered her just as much.

They did share a dinner together after the ceremony where Sandra allegedly remarked that she would rather be dead than live as Sebastian’s wife.

Once King Frederick and Queen Isolde settled into Graza Palace and the pregnancy announcement was made, Sandra moved out of the palace and into Graza. She did not stay for long as the city’s construction and overall noise bothered her deeply.

It’s implied that Lady Helena likely came to Sandra and told her she was welcome to stay with Queen Marisol under watch in Tadrus. Sebastian spoke up for her. Everyone was willing to forget about Queen Marisol. She had never been a present queen or a very popular one, but their reputation could not take placing the Rios princess in bondage especially after the story spread that Queen Isolde had tried to bite King Frederick’s hand during the surrender.

So, Sandra was allowed to do as she pleased and to go where she wanted. She never left Escan but she rarely made an appearance in Graza unless she had to. Sandra spent her adult life just as she had her childhood. She traveled from one house to the other, being doted on and spoiled (only this time by people who were hoping to get on the good side of the Harvers).

She and her ladies stayed away from cities. Sandra loved cottages and country estates. By the time was twenty, she had around a hundred horses split between five homes and she liked taking them for rides in the hills. She became interested in leisure sports and garden strolls. Unlike others from her father’s time, Sandra was a big fan of the fashion changes King Frederick made. She found the gowns and their details very appealing to the eye and she loved the contrast between her apparent glamour and the relatively small homes she stayed in.

Sandra was welcomed everywhere she went. She became very good at hiring ladies who knew court gossip so she was never out of the loop, and the lesser nobles she visited were just as eager to hear snippets from Graza about the infamous royal family.

It’s unknown if she ever had any relationships outside of her marriage. It’s likely. Sandra never stayed in one place for very long and was always very keen on keeping a close circle of people who were very loyal to her. She collected people as much as she did things. At times she’d even nickname her ladies after her horses if she felt particularly close to them.

As a couple, she did not find Sebastian very interesting and he never knew how to talk to her. She kept a diary so it is known that there was attempts at some sort of reconciliation after the death of Queen Isolde, but Sandra certainly never stopped hating King Frederick and never forgave her husband for his “Tadrune roots”.

However, Sandra was happy at the news that they were going to have a child. Perhaps she wanted one or perhaps at the moment the discovery was made, she thought back to the tea parties she used to throw with her mother.

Princess Damaris was born in 1759 and it’s (allegedly) said that when she was held up for Sandra to view, that she wailed and shouted that her daughter was ugly.

Sandra and Princess Damaris never got along, and this was something she would also hold against Sebastian as she would be overheard saying that it was his fault that their child was such a disaster. Sandra was disgusted by Princess Damaris, almost convinced that she’d been some sort of curse and was not her natural offspring. Almost immediately, Sandra placed Princess Damaris in the care of a wet nurse and fled Graza again (not before apparently lecturing Sebastian and assuring him there would be no second attempt at creating a child). Furthermore, pregnancy did not suit her and Sandra truly did feel as if it had been a lapse of judgment. She hardly wanted to be around Damaris until she could speak and walk, and once she could she hated everything she said.

Their mother-daughter relationship would continue to be strained. Sandra saw Princess Damaris as little as possible, even when she did visit Graza. Although, in her own words her dislike for her daughter was its own form of kindness as lying would be cruel. Sandra felt personally insulted both by Damaris’ appearance and knight training, her lack of interest in her mother’s hobbies and lifestyle, and her closeness to Sebastian as if it was her who forced the marriage between them. It seemed much of the grudge Sandra really had for King Frederick and Sebastian, she took out on her daughter.

Sebastian would die in 1779 and Sandra made the vow to no longer visit Graza as she no longer saw any reason to. She continued to live comfortably in charming estates away from the capital, and to hear her say it she never had a family at all.

#my characters #my writing #tss trilogy #world building #the last version of this post makes me want to pull my own teeth #I find it very interesting I only wrote the originals like 2 years ago and that means that it wasn't that long ago I had not stretched #this far into ORG's development

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coppicefics · 3 years

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Masked Omens: Week Seven, Part One

[Image Description: Image 1 - A simple rendition of the Masked Singer UK logo, a golden mask with colourful fragments flying off of it. The mask has a golden halo and a golden devil tail protruding from either side. Below, gold text reads ‘Masked Omens’.

Image 2 - A page from the Entertainment section of the Capital Herald, dated 6th February 2021. Full image description and transcript below the cut. End ID.]

Read the fic here! All news stories and events are entirely fictional; real names of people (with the exception of image attributions) and places are used only for context. No affiliation is implied, and no disrespect is intended by the use of their names in this work of fiction.

[EDIT: With thanks to HolRose/@hasturswig for spotting that I had overlooked the sad passing of John Noakes, who originally appeared on this page!]

The Capital Herald - Saturday, 6th February 2021 Entertainment, page 15

Top left: Grasswater redo rumoured Will anybody tackle the ‘cursed’ adaptation? [Image Description: The ‘w’ in ‘Grasswater, ‘h’ in ‘the’, and ‘o’ in ‘adaptation’ in the above headline have been circled in pencil. End ID.] It's been nearly a decade and a half since the critically-acclaimed adaptation of Sir Thomas Parsett's The Grasswater Affair flopped into cinemas, and rumours are once again circulating about a possible reboot. The first attempt at transferring Parsett's magnum opus to the big screen was released in 2009 after a series of setbacks to the production process. Among the calamities that befell the set were a fire in the wardrobe department, an overdose requiring producers to recast the lead role of Fabian, and a bout of food poisoning that halted filming for over a week. There were whispers, among the more superstitious, that the film was cursed. By the time The Grasswater Affair was finally released, the delay had whipped the original book's fans into a frenzy of anticipation, and excitement over the forthcoming film actually pushed the 19th-century novel into the bestseller lists for the first time in the weeks before the release. Early reviews were promising, and the good press only fed the hype machine. But the crowds that packed into cinemas to watch it emerged disappointed; while the reasons they gave for their disappointment varied wildly, everybody from casual viewers to die-hard book lovers seemed to find it lacking in some aspect or another. It deviated too far from the source text, while adhering precisely to the minor details that didn't matter; it featured a young actor fresh out of drama school, rather than the promised household name; it lingered too long on shots of the actresses' bosoms, and the key object that proved key to the plot was left entirely out of focus in the background of a crucial early scene. While, naturally, some audience members enjoyed it in its own right, it never became either a blockbuster hit or a cult classic, and it still boasts a lowly 2.9 stars on the Internet Movie Database (IMDb) and 24% approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes. This being the case, it might be hard to understand why rumours continue to circulate about a revival of The Grasswater Affair, or what might make this time different from the many, many other occasions when such a story has surfaced on the internet. The first question is easily answered by a look at the thriving community of Parsett fans who adore the original novel – and, indeed, the rest of the series The Grasswater Affair is part of. Following first Fabian, and then various other heroes, through a sort of alternative 19th century underpinned by magic and other fantasy tropes, it's been hailed as a masterpiece – and it's aged surprisingly well despite the shift in society's views and tolerances since its publication. The first novel sees Fabian locked in a battle of wits with his somewhat older rival, Rafferty, as they seek to make their fortunes in a society rife with danger and – worse – scandal. As for the second question, the recent rumours have an extra ring of truth to them thanks to the attachment of an actual name – writer-turned-showrunner Noel Garmin is said to be in talks about the project. Having adapted several of his own books for the small screen, could he now be turning his famed respect for written source material to a film or series based on Parsett's masterpiece? If he does, book fans can expect to be very pleased with the result. Garmin was asked about his upcoming projects at a recent convention panel, and his answer, while enigmatic, seemed promising.“Well, I've got to write some books, at some point! But I do also want to work on some more TV, it's a fascinating way of telling a story and it's still quite new and exciting for me. Perhaps I could tell one of my favourite stories, one that I didn't originally write. I'm actually talking to some people... We'll have to see. Hopefully I'll have news for you soon.” Hopefully you will, Noel. Hopefully you will. CITRON DEUX-CHEVAL Top right: Summer’s operatic offerings Last of Glyndebourne festival announcements [Image Description: The apostrophe and ‘s’ of ‘summer’s’ and the ‘t’ of ‘operatic’ in the above headline are circled in pencil. Below the headline is a short, wide picture of a theatre auditorium with red curtains. Small text over the bottom of the picture reads ‘Photo: Gabriel Varaljay | Unsplash’. End ID.] Opera fans are in for a treat this summer, as Puccini's Turandot returns to Glyndebourne Opera House. The venue in Lewes is renowned as the home of great opera, and Turandot is a favourite no matter where it's performed, so this combination of the two is a perfect match. Throw in popular young tenor Jeremy Wensleydale – most recently seen on ITV's The Masked Singer - performing the role of Calaf, and it's a performance guaranteed to impress. The play follows Calaf as he sets out to win the hand of the titular princess. Each suitor is asked three riddles, and failure means instant death. But answering three riddles is not enough to win the heart of Princess Turandot, and Calaf strikes a desperate bargain; if she can guess his true name by daybreak, she may put him to death regardless. If she fails, the marriage goes ahead. It's an interesting method of courting, to be sure, but the opera has enchanted and delighted audiences for many years now. And, if nothing else, who can resist an opportunity to hear 'Nessun Dorma' live? Glyndebourne members can book tickets now for dates between 25th May and 22nd June; remaining tickets will be available from the 18th of April. Turandot is the latest title to be announced by the opera house and completes their summer season's line-up. There will also be performances of Cosi Fan Tutte, Tristan and Isolde, Il Turco in Italia, and an array of concerts and other events. The Glyndebourne Summer Festival is always a highlight of the arts scene in the middle of the year, but there are events all year round. Currently, the opera house is a stopping-point for a touring production of Romeo & Juliet, which has already passed through the Chichester Festival Theatre and will then go on to Colchester, Ipswich, Cambridge, Sheffield, Manchester and Leeds. The show is a daring new interpretation of the age-old Shakespearean tragedy, fusing music and dance with the familiar story, and a full review will appear in the Capital Herald on Thursday. From the middle of February, Romeo & Juliet will be replaced at Glyndebourne with a more traditional #approach to La Traviata by Giuseppe Verdi. The music of La Traviata may be familiar, even to audiences unfamiliar with the story, as it was rather liberally plundered for inspiration by Donato Lovreglio in 1865. Of course, that does assume a familiarity with Lovreglio - but if you find yourself humming along during your first attendance, that might very well be why. Incidentally, for more opera and classical music trivia, you might find my recent book, Inside Opera, worth a read - especially if you need to brush up on your cultured conversation points before you visit the opera house this summer. EDWARD BIGGS Inside Opera, by Edward Biggs, is published by Byker Press and is available now in all good bookshops. #Hardback RRP ￡9.99/€11.99.

Centre left: Capital Herald scoops NMA Star-studded ceremony honours news greats [Image Description: The ‘H’ of ‘Herald’, ‘A’ of ‘NMA’, and ‘t’ of ‘star’ in the above headline are circled in pencil.] The 2021 News Media Award ceremony took place on Thursday evening at a glamorous event held in the Mayfair Room at the Connaught Hotel, Mayfair. While many of the attendees are more used to operating the cameras than parading in front of them, they rose to the occasion with great aplomb, rubbing shoulders on the red carpet with some of the most famous entertainers in the UK who'd come to add their own special touches to the ceremony. It will come as no surprise to learn that Trevor McDonald, Natasha Kaplinsky, and Naga Munchetty were in attendance, as were Tom Bradby and Dan Walker. But the attendee who really got heads turning was Carmine Zugiber, notorious for attending very few events on UK soil. Although she's normally out in the field, she's been based in London for the last couple of months, covering the political beat for News World Weekly in Uriel Scrolle's absence, and it seems she couldn't resist the opportunity to collect her awards for Best Combat Coverage and Outstanding Field Reporting in person. Wearing a glamorous Ligur gown in striking red to match her hair, she paused on the red carpet to exchange words with some of those less fortunate reporters covering the event. “I don't know what to do with myself, with nobody shooting at me!” Zugiber joked. “Where's my bulletproof jacket?” The ceremony featured a performance of 'Messy (If I Want To Be)' by rapper P-White, who also presented an award for Entertainment Columnist of the Year to the Capital Herald's very own Citron Deux-Cheval. Another of the Capital Herald's staff writers, Edward Biggs, was nominated in the category of News-Adjacent Achievement for his 2020 trivia book, That Guy From That Thing. While the award, presented by Dame Angela Crowley, eventually went to News World Weekly's Donald Eath for High Score: A Study in Arcade Machines, Edward did get a chance to meet Dame Angela and exchange a few words. “She said I shouldn't feel discouraged, as she didn't win anything at her first awards ceremony either – and she wished me every success with my new book, which has just come out,” said Biggs of the star. “Hopefully, next year, I'll be bringing home a trophy too.” At the end of the night, as the winners and losers drifted home, the presses were already roaring into action to print the morning's papers. The news never stops; there was precious little time for the winners to enjoy the warm glow of appreciation, and no time at all for the less successful nominees to lament their losses. But at the end of the day, the whole industry could sleep safe in the knowledge that the work we do is valuable, and valued. MARY HODGES

Bottom left: Blue Peter garden party ‘22 Celebrating 10 years in show’s new location [Image description: The ‘B’ and ‘e’ of ‘Blue’ and the ‘h’ of ‘show’ in the above headline are circled in pencil. End ID.] The BBC has announced that it will be holding a party for former Blue Peter presenters, guests, and viewers in 2022. Held in the Blue Peter garden in Salford to celebrate ten years since it was relocated from London, the party is expected to provide an opportunity for Blue Peter presenters, past and present, to mingle and let their hair down, as well as catching up with some of the guests who've appeared on the show over the years. Former presenters such as Adam Young, Katy Hill, Radzi Chinyanganya, Anthea Turner, Gethin Jones, Pat Maputi, Yvette Fielding and Konnie Huq can expect an invite, of course, as can the current team of Lindsey Russell, Richie Driss, Mwaka Mudenda, and Adam Beales. But the former guests are an even more varied bunch; everyone from Idina Menzel and Sir Chris Hoy to McFly and Tim Peake could be invited, to say nothing of the hundreds of farmers, bakers, teachers, parents, and kids who've taken part in the show. While the party is quite a long way off yet, the BBC are already hard at work figuring out a lottery system that will allow them to give every viewer an equal chance to be invited to the party. Register your interest now on the Blue Peter website to make sure you don't miss out. SARAH JEUNE Ad, bottom right: [Image Description: A black background with a dark-grey crown resting on it. There are smudges of a lighter colour on the background. Above the crown, graffiti-style text reads ‘P-White’. Below it, written as if in chalk, are the words ‘Chalkdust tour’, underlined as if in chalk. Beneath it, a red bar reading ‘New dates added’ covers the words ‘Sold out’. Below that is the web address ‘www.chalkdust-tour.com’. Tiny writing in the bottom right hand corner reads ‘Photo: Zach Angelo for ProChurchMedia | Unsplash’. End ID.]

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#very much fake news #masked omens #masked omens week seven p1 #good omens fic #mine

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